A Very Sweet Subject
by Albion19
Summary: After a year Wendy hoped that Neverland was behind her but the sound of pan pipes drifting through her dormitory one night change all that. Peter/Wendy. Darkish.
1. Chapter 1

Roedean Boarding School had a prestigious place atop of a hill that overlooked Brighton Marina, while behind it the Sussex Downs stretched. It was a beautiful place but Wendy felt trapped. Here she was safe and no longer a point of gossip and slander from their neighbours and friends. Here her oddness could be ignored and some part of Wendy wished that she could, that those weeks where she was beset with paranoia and fear would fade like a dream but they do not. She had been scared for her brothers and determined to the point of obsession to find a way to get Baelfire back. However running away to Kensington Gardens for an entire night had finally broken her parents and they had sent her to boarding school.

She had explained why she had gone to such lengths, why she had defied them but her honesty had only convinced them of her unbalance, especially to her father. He had his reputation to think about and while she had no doubt of his love he was a rather selfish man. Sometimes she thought she saw a glimmer of uncertainty in her mother's eyes but it was not enough to change her fate. As soon as she reached Brighton she had tried to run back but her efforts had been thwarted and after many months of uncertainty and worry she finally started to relax.

It had been a year since Baelfire had been taken and she and her brothers had been left alone. But what is a few months to someone like that boy? She could never truly be at ease. In her bones she knows that she could be small and white with age and one day she'll feel that giddy, malevolent figure at her back. So one night when the dreams started and music played she was not surprised.

* * *

Waves lapped distantly over the pebbles, a lulling noise that would be interrupted rudely by the creaks and groans of the school relaxing for the night. There was the murmur of girls whispering and snoring, a comforting reminder for Wendy of her brothers. It used to drive her mad when they would not be quiet but now she would give anything to hear them again.

After awhile the whispering stopped and the sound of sleep filled the room. Wendy felt herself being pulled along with them and the rhythmic inhaling and exhaling transformed into the movements of a shore. Under her feet were not uncomfortable pebbles but smooth white sand and the water that bubbled up over her toes was warm.

_Neverland._

The sky above was gloomy and overcast - not so different from her native island – and that introduced the first seed of fear. This wonderful place of mermaids and fairies shouldn't be gloomy, it should be beaming with sunshine and arced with deep blue skies. But there were mermaids and all many of amazing creatures here, so she should not be so unfair.

Lying on her back she stared at the sky and saw the stars through wisps of cloud. She wiggled, the ground under her back uneven and bumpy but her sense of discomfort was forgotten. Two small pricks of light were detaching themselves from the sky and moving towards her and she watched, mesmerised. But as they came rushing down Wendy was gripped with fear. The lights – _the eyes_ – narrowed into slits and she leaped to her feet with a gasp.

But she was no longer on the sandy beach overlooking the sea but at the bottom of a white cliff, pebbles under her feet. She was back at school, looking up at the cliff and what she saw made her tense up with fright. Dark figures were lining up along the cliff edge, she could see their night gowns flapping in the wind.

_Get back_, she wanted to shout, _you'll fall! _But she could not speak, her teeth frozen together. Suddenly there was a lull in the sound of the sea and she could hear faintly the music of pan pipes caring over the air. One of the figures leaned forward and a boy laughed as they plummeted to the pebbles below. Wendy wrenched her teeth apart and screamed.

"NO!"

Her scream of horror echoed through the dormitory and then her harsh breathing filled the room. Heart pounding Wendy gripped her blankets in shaking fists, staring through the darkness. She was in bed, at her school and it had only been a dream. She began to stiffly lie down when something made her stop. Music drifted through an open window, beautiful but melancholy and the sound of it froze her blood.

"No..."

The beds she took to be occupied were empty, her vision becoming accustomed to the dark and with her breath held she got to her feet and walked to the window. Lined up along the cliff edge seemed to be almost every inhabitant of the school. Judging by the height of some of the figures he had even managed to lure some adults out too. As if waking into a dream she climbed through the window and walked stiffly along the dewy lawn until she reached the girls.

None of them made a noise but all of them wavered back and forth to the music, like a snake tempted out of a basket. Wendy, now breathing raggedly, grabbed the arm of the nearest person and pulled her away from the edge. The girl, no more then eleven and tiny, gazed unfocused through lidded eyes.

"Wake up!" she begged, giving her a little shake but the girl remained unresponsive. Wendy looked up along the line of potential death and craned her neck to peer over the cliff edge. The tide was in and truthfully there was not much of a drop but she had no doubt that if they took one step more they would all drown.

"Now they usually say that girls and children should go first but I think I'll be contrary and go with the adults. What do you think?"

The sound of his voice, though pleasant, sent a spike of dread into her. It sizzled through her, like electricity and she found that the paralysis that had gripped her since waking faded. She whipped around and, with a shriek, barrelled into him. Maybe he did not expect a young, respectful lady to barrel into him like a ruby player at a scrum but he was certainly delighted to be.

"Ow! Haha!" He laughed, slamming onto his back.

"Shut up!" she screamed into his grinning face. She thought she would be frightened to be face to face with him again, imagined the flood of humiliation that would make her flush and feel stupid but never this rage. She had him pinned to the ground, fist raised to give him a punch when he relaxed beneath her, smiling cheerfully. By appearances he was her age, a teenager edging into adulthood but the longer you stared at him the less likely that was. There was a horrible, giddy joyfulness in his eyes, something cruel and intelligent that was far beyond that of a boy or even an adult. He was_ old_.

_And he's mine, _she thought but batted it away as she reached for the pipes in his hand. He stretched it over his head, grinning all the while as if they were playing a game. This drove her even more mad and she dug her knee into his stomach which made him jerk. She snatched the instrument and jumped to her feet and was about the throw the pipes into the sea when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist.

"I wouldn't, not if you want them to go for a swim."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "Then put them back in their beds."

"And for nothing in return?" he said and the smile on his face faded. He gazed at her seriously. "I'll send them back and this will have all been a dream...but only if you return."

Wendy stared into his eyes, shaking her head but gripped the pipes. The last time she had seen him he had sworn that he would never see her again, that she meant nothing and she had taken that devastatingly to heart.

"Why?"

"You know why," he gritted out and his hand grew tight around her arm.

This time it was her turn to smile. "But it was nonsense, that's what you said and for this once I do agree."

Something flashed in his eyes, too quick to really be sure but she thought she saw hurt. But then he smirked at her, letting her arm go. "Oh you're talking about what Tink said. I told you she was nothing but a common fairy. I was talking about Bae."

"Baelfire!" her body seemed to squeeze with feeling at the sound of his name.

"I propose a deal: you for him."

"You'll let him go?"

"Yes," he said pleasantly and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why would you do that? No one leaves Neverland."

"I let you go didn't I? He was proving to be a bore. You were much more fun," he smiled, a slow curling thing.

Wendy felt herself flushing and looked away. The girls were still standing there, their night gowns flapping and hair trailing in the breeze. Would he really send them to their ends? She looked back at him, knowing all to well his preference for mind games but knew that he was too strange to take the chance.

"I want to see them walking back to their beds. Every last one," she said firmly and offered the pan pipes back. He started to play, his eyes fixed on her as the students and teachers drifted back towards their beds. When they were left alone Wendy stared out to sea, memorising the view and inhaling the British air deeply. Soon it would all be gone.

"Remind you of anything?" His breathed into her ear and she tried not to react.

"What?"

"The sea. The first time you came to Neverland I saved your life."

Wendy stared at the waves as the horizon started to glow faintly and then lifted her eyes to the second star to the right that was almost gone. She closed her eyes tightly as he gripped her hand and pulled them over the cliff edge.

* * *

_a.n: there should be a mixture of flashbacks to Wendy's time in Neverland and what's happening after this chapter. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_~past~_

The Shadow flew over London, the Thames snaking below them darkly as chimneys billowed ash and soot into the air. Wendy stared at the hand in hers: she could see her own fingers faintly through it but whatever was holding her was solid and moved as fluidly as an eel. Touching it imbued her body with a sense of lightness and she felt that if she let go she would float on the air like lint. As if reading her mind the Shadow turned it's blank face to her and let go. She did not float, she fell like a stone. Wendy screamed, falling through clouds and the Shadow seemed to wait until she had almost hit the ground before it swooped down and caught her.

"Don't let go," it said in it's echoing, oddly calm voice and Wendy nodded, heart bursting. It was a warning and she gripped the hand and never let go. They ascended again, faster this time, as if to out race the dawn and Wendy kept her eyes fixed on the star, willing it to remain. A strange thing occurred, as she watched the star seemed to flex and stretch, as if someone had grasped the edges of it and pulled. Soon the star was a streak of light on the horizon and they were flying into the blinding heart of it. She scrunched her eyes shut and did not open them again until she felt a popping in her ears.

Below was not London any more, not even the English Channel but a strange, new sea. The waters rippled as they flew and she stretched a hand and skimmed the waves. She licked a finger and laughed when she tasted salt but then her laughter died when she looked up. Through the gloom, for it was not night, she could see a peak rising through what she took to be clouds but it was mist. The closer they got the warmer she became and the smell of something undefinable triggered a memory. It was like stepping into the hot house at Kew.

"Neverland," she breathed and the Shadow nodded. Beaming with joy she searched through the mist, trying to make out the size and shape of the island but as she did something came shooting through the whirling fog and slammed into her shoulder. Her hand was ripped out of the Shadow's and she plummeted into the sea below. Too shocked to scream she did hear something before the waves took her: the crowing laughter of boys.

* * *

The fall should have knocked her unconscious but whatever had hit her had been flung hard and her shoulder blazed with pain. It cut through her shock and soon the need to breath cut through the pain and she stretched her arms up, teeth clenching with effort and looked up.

_Is it up?_

Above and below was darkness, there was nothing to distinguish what direction to swim. She kicked her legs, hair trying to wrap itself around her face when something suddenly grabbed her arm. Bubbles escaped her mouth as she turned and her hair floated away to reveal a boy staring at her.

He seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him. He frowned for a moment, his grip loosening but then suddenly he was pointing upwards. Wendy tried to use her arms but gave up and feebly tried to swim with one. He was quick, darting away and back and then, as if frustrated with her slow pace, he grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

Breaking the surface she inhaled greedily and coughed in the most unladylike way imaginable. Not that she cared at that moment. She held onto the boy as he swam towards something dark ahead and she saw with relief that it was a rock. He pulled himself up onto it easily but the rocks were slippery so he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her up beside him. On her knees, raggedy wet hair hanging down over her face she spent a few minutes just breathing. She had never been taught to swim and if it was not for the boy she would likely be dead now.

"You...you saved my life," she gasped, looking at him. He was her age she guessed and though drenched through he was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen. He stared at her in confusion.

"You're a girl," he said with some disappointment.

Wendy straightened, thinking he looked a little skinny actually. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

At her look of indignation he suddenly smiled and she could not stop giving one in return. He shook his head. "Forgive me, it's just that I was expecting someone else. Are you well?"

At his concern the pain in her shoulder started to throb with pain and she looked down, poking it gingerly. She muffled a cry and was shocked to see that there was blood. He leaned forward suddenly and after asking for her permission he tore the fabric over her shoulder with a knife. It was a shallow cut but the skin around it was an angry red.

"You'll have an impressive bruise in the morning."

"I doubt it will be the best I've ever had," she countered, trying to be positive. He smiled at her again and she felt something flutter inside, like a moth.

"My name is Peter," he said politely and inclined his head.

"I'm Wendy. Wendy Moira Angela Darling," she said, feeling she might as well go for the full effect.

"Peter Pan," he said again and cocked an eyebrow. "Not as grand as yours I'm afraid."

"Pan, like the god," she said, thinking of the statue that she had almost hit Baelfire with, mistaking him for a thief.

"Yes, like the god," he said with bemusement but his eyes flashed strangely for a moment. Too quick to discern and Wendy had already forgotten it when he stood and offered her a hand up. With his help they stepped carefully along rock pools until they reached the shore and the jungle reared up before her. It was dark and she could feel the sticky heat and inhaled that odd, sensuous smell.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Yes. But not for us," he answered mysteriously. "There are no natural predators on the island. The mermaids don't venture on land and nor do the pirates, if they know what's good for them."

"Pirates?"

They walked into the jungle and as her eyes became accustomed to the light she felt that there was nothing to be really afraid of. It was almost comforting, the gloom reminded her of the night lights that her mother would leave on for her and her brothers. Light but not enough to vanish the shadows.

"Yes, but like I said they don't bother us. My camp is this way," he was walking backwards so she could see his face. Any obstacles in his way he seemed to know intuitively to step over while any branches or vines that blocked her path he would lend a hand or clear away. He was very courteous. She stared at his attire. It was a patch work of green fabric, so as to blend into his surroundings. It was neatly done and she looked back up thoughtfully but blushed when she saw his lips quirk at her inspection.

"Do you really live here?"

"Yes."

"But what about your parents?"

"Dead," he said and shrugged.

When Bae had told her that he was an orphan he had been understandably upset but Peter seemed more bored with the topic. She stammered an apology. Not all orphans have the same tale of woe and she would be foolish to believe so. As if knowing what she was thinking he stopped, cocking his head.

"Don't feel sorry for me. I have no mother or father and I need none. The other boys would tell you the same."

"Other boys...?" she asked and then froze when they came to the end of the path. In a hollow in the forest floor was the camp and it was much larger then she envisioned. A group of boys milled around a fire at the centre or sat under make shift tents. Wendy looked back for Peter and he gestured for her to go ahead. Inhaling she lifted her chin and straightened her damp night gown and immediately felt blood rushing to her face. It was drying but at one point it must have been sheer. She had been walking around like that with a strange boy and he had, gallantly, pretended not to notice. That eased her embarrassment somewhat. Almost.

She forced herself to look back but Peter was gone. Grabbing a cloak from one of the tents she fastened it around her neck and wrapped it around her as she made her way down the steep slope until she stood in the shadows the fire didn't touch and cleared her throat.

"Good evening," she said, her voice sounding oddly shrill in her ears. When they didn't acknowledge her she repeated herself louder until some of them turned and stared at her. Their stares turned into gawps and she fisted the cloak.

"Is...is that a girl?" a voice said incredulously and then someone at the back started to titter.

"Or a very pretty boy?"

This produced a gale of laughter and Wendy started to breath heavier as they came close, giddy scorn written on their faces. They circled her and someone tugged on her cloak.

"Hang on, that's mine..."

Not knowing what else to do she suddenly stuck out her hand, chin lifted in the air and introduced herself. If her father had been there he would have been very proud. Of course this made the boys laugh harder. However two boys by the fire were not laughing: a boy with his hood up was crouched and tending to it and the other was Peter. He was throwing a dagger into the air, where the blade glinted orange and caught it deftly before throwing again. The movement seemed to draw all their eyes like filings to a magnet and in that moment no one breathed.

"For some reason this lady's journey here was hindered. Something made her fall and almost drown as the Shadow was flying over the lagoon. Does anyone have anything to say?" He asked with a pleasant smile but his eyes gleamed.

The boys shifted and shuffled but none looked away, as if he had them hypnotised. Finally a boy, the one who made the crude joke, stepped forward, his head bowed. In his hand was a limp sling shot.

"We - I - thought she was the Never bird. I saw something white through the mist, I didn't know she was a girl."

Peter stopped throwing the dagger, eyes fixed on the guilty boy who had now dropped to his knees. Wendy looked at the boys, who either looked stern or worried and then at the deadly serious expression on Peter's face and laughed. She could not help herself, it was all too ridiculous.

"I'm sorry. You – you're all just far too serious. I came here to get away from boring serious things! You look like you're going to the gallows," she said, pointing at her shooter who glared at her. But when Peter started to laugh and sheathed his knife Wendy saw such pure relief on the boy's face that her amusement faltered for a moment. But then Peter was in front of her, grinning.

"The Wendy-bird, I like that. You're right, this time I will spare his life," he said and Wendy nodded solemnly, trying not to smile.

"You must, I _did_ survive after all," she said and while her blood was up she kissed his cheek in thanks and then dashed to the kneeling boy to help him up. She did not see the flash of surprise on Peter's face or the way he touched his cheek but she did notice that the light seemed to brighten.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_More to come in a day or two. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_~present~_

Peter could not fly, not without pixie dust and it was in such short supply that he forgoes using it whenever he could. That was why his Shadow was utilised, it could move between worlds with much more ease. Somewhere on the island, no one but he knew, there was a crop of beans that could transport the bearer to another world. You just had to think of where you wanted to go, if you knew. So when he pulled her over the cliff edge she knew that he was not pulling them to their deaths but Neverland. As a last ditch attempt to deny him she thought of London as hard as she could and the arm that he had wrapped around her waist tightened.

"Stop that!" he shouted as the blue vortex started to become tinged with green. But they were falling so fast that she could not concentrate and with a blinding flash she and Peter were sucked into the portal. They emerged with an equally blinding flash and driving winds onto the shore of the island and just as quickly as it appeared the portal vanished with a popping noise. Sprawled out on the sand together Wendy pushed him away. She stood, staring at him grimly as he rolled onto his back with a grin.

"Where is he? Where's Bae?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention? He's gone," he said, getting to his feet and batting sand off his clothes. Wendy blinked, mouth going dry.

"Wh - what? You said that you would let him go if I returned..." her hands started to shake.

"And I have. If I make a promise I keep it, my word is my bond." She sneered at this and he sighed. "I know you. I knew that you would agree so I just took the initiative. I've saved you from a pain Wendy. It would have been...cruel to see him only to be separated again," he said kindly and she stared at him intensely.

"How could I have been so wrong about you?"

Not waiting for an answer and without a backwards glance she walked into the jungle. Behind her Peter stood with his hands on his hips, frustration on his face. For someone who is used to getting his every way it was not something he took with much humility, at least not for anyone else to see.

"Don't come crying to me if you get lost!"

"Not much chance of that if I do, is there?" she shouted back primly. She knew exactly where she was going. She risked a look back but the shore was deserted. He could move as quick as thought but she hoped she had successfully driven him off. At least for now.

It had been a year since she last set foot in Neverland but like in a dream she walked purposefully, knowing that her route was true. The one good thing about Neverland, and of course the one awful, was that whatever you believed came true and in that moment she wanted Baelfire, even if he was truly gone. Sure enough she came to a clearing and an outcropping of rock. She glided her hands over it, inspecting it clearly and saw a gap near the soil line. An opening that lead below. Taking one sweeping glance around she wriggled into the hole and dropped a little into a stairway, roughly hewn from the rock. Using her hands she manoeuvred until she came to the end of the stairs and found a cavern before her. Pale shafts of light filtered through roots, enough to see the meagre furniture and possessions that littered the place.

Over the walls were pictures, depicting scenes both familiar and unfamiliar. A boy standing next to a man with a cane, a cottage, a huge ogre, a fairy in flight, a woman. Her heart bled for him, for a boy who gave up so much for a family he was just beginning to know. She had hoped, as her father started to come around to the idea, that Bae would be adopted by her parents. She, John and Michael had already started to love him like a brother, so it seemed to her the next logical step.

Wendy smiled sadly when she saw a clock tower. "Big Ben..."

She dipped her fingers into the lip of stone below the drawings and felt chalk dust. She trailed her fingers in it, no longer seeing the drawings. Since waking from her dream at school she had been forcing herself to be brave but now that she was alone that braveness crumbled. She was frightened and battling an overpowering feeling of helplessness. It was like the first night she spent at boarding school, only a thousand times worse. At least there she knew that she would see her family again but now?

"I can't stay here forever, I won't," she said, licking salt tears off her lips. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and bit her lip. If she really started to cry she would not be able to stop. She picked up a nub of chalk as music started to drift down from above and she froze, gripping the chalk tightly. She had never been able to hear the music that Peter played, he called it his lullaby for the lost, but now she could, just faintly. It could only be heard by the neglected and orphaned.

"No!" Wendy hummed to herself, something upbeat and the antithesis to the slow, melancholy music from above. _Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity_. Joyful and a reminder of home. Moving to the music of her own making she started to draw, furiously concentrating until his terrible tune faded away. By the time she had finished the chalk was no more then a smear of white on her fingers but her drawing was completed. Composed of clean, straight lines her house in Bloomsbury Square contained images of her family standing together. Even Nana and Liza were there. Satisfied with her work she looked for more chalk and spaces to draw.

Every now and then, when her mind wandered and she stopped humming, Peter's lullaby would sneak in and cloud her mind. When this happened she would shout out the names of her family and friends, recall the colour of her front door, describe her favourite pudding, her rival at school and on and on. Because the music did not just proclaim you orphaned, after awhile you forget that you even had a family. She had seen it with the Lost Boys.

_That's what he wants, he want me to forget but I won't. Not ever._

* * *

She spent a sleepless night in the cave and the next morning she ventured above ground. Not that there was much difference between day and night here, one was just a degree gloomier than the other. She was starving but knew that if she wanted to eat she would have to risk going near to his camp. Near the shore she found a clump of bushes, which luckily still had berries on them. There were two kinds to choose from: blue and red. Her fingers wiggled over the blue, unsure which ones she should pick.

"Not the blue, have you forgotten already?" Said a drawling voice behind her and she sprung up. Felix was leaning on his club, looking as bored with the world as the last time she saw him. For all his sang-froid he was the only one that she felt was anywhere near to being normal. He was the oldest of the Lost Boys and the music had no effect on him. How he became Peter's second in command she could not say.

"It's been a year," she explained and picked some of the red ones, eating them there. He still hovered behind her and she sighed, turning. "Am I in your way?"

"You know it's in your best interests to just play nice," he said, not unkindly.

"Play? I'm done pretending. I am here, like he wanted, isn't that enough?"

Felix said nothing, just gazed at her. A scar crossed his face and she had often wondered how he had got it but never asked. He looked down the shore and pulled off his hood, revealing a head of shaggy blonde hair.

"He wants you to come to the camp this evening. There will be a feast in your honour and there you can discuss what needs to be discussed," he said, his bored tone now tinged with annoyance. Wendy narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why do you follow his orders? You are not a servant and I know you are not bewitched like the others."

Felix actually smiled at her. "I presume loyalty never crossed your mind?"

"How could a – a _thing_ such as him produce loyalty in anyone?"

But Felix just smiled again and said nothing. He handed her a piece of parchment and left, slinging his club over his shoulders as he disappeared into the trees. Wendy looked down at the paper and as expected found nothing. It was blank.

She used it to collect berries, staining it a deep red.

* * *

Wendy did not waste any more time fretting in the cave. While Peter had everyone on the island in his pocket he did not have her or, she hoped, the only other female inhabitant. She remembered the first time Peter had told her about Tinkerbell. She been so excited to see her first real fairy and had fought hard to hold down her disappointment when she had actually seen the disgraced fey. But her disappointment had turned quickly into pity and with it the first real prickles that something was not quite right with Neverland.

It took her the whole morning to find the right tree and by the time she spotted the cord it was midday. She knew not by the light, that never really changed but by how hot it was.

"Please be there, please..." she muttered, wiping sweat from her brow as she gripped the cord and, praying that favour was on her side, gave it a yank. Far, far above she heard a sweet tinkling noise as a bell rang and then after a minute a blond head poked out of a window.

"WHAT?!" The fairy shouted grumpily. Maybe she had been sleeping.

"HELLO TINK! IT'S WENDY!" She waved.

Silence from above but she saw Tink stretching out of the window and peer down. Suddenly she disappeared and the rope ladder was flung down from above. Steeling herself Wendy started the long climb up but knew that the woman – and the view – would be worth it. When she finally reached the trap door her arms were shaking and her muscles seizing so when Tink pulled her up and dropped her into a chair she was grateful.

"Catch your breath," the fairy said when Wendy tried to speak. She stared down at her with a heavy frown, as if she was debating with herself whether Wendy was real or not. Finally she shook her head. "I can't believe you're here."

"I had such a lovely time before that I had to return," Wendy said breathlessly, mouth quirked but her eyes were dark. Tink sank to her knee sadly and took Wendy's hand.

"Bae is gone,"

"I know, too late," her smile faded away and she stared at the view. Here, high above the canopy they were treated to a spectacular view. There was even enough light to make out the misty mountains in the distance. Tink squeezed her hand and Wendy looked down.

"Did he bring you here?" Tink asked gently. Wendy nodded, her eyes glossy with unshed tears and the fairy stood up angrily. "I should never have done that spell."

Wendy shook her head and smiled. "I wanted you to. I don't blame you for what happened," she said sincerely and something gleamed in Tink's eyes and she blinked rapidly, looking down.

"Well at least you don't," she said with a guttural laugh and Wendy frowned. Tinkerbell stared out of the window, her face harsh. "If I knew who he was I wouldn't have done it."

Wendy stood and came to her side. "What's done is done. Anyway I think that pixie dust was faulty, you should take it back and demand a refund!"

"Ya think?"

"I do. As if he could love anyone. He's not capable of it," she said, gaze loosing focus. The memory of what transpired, the hope and transcendent joy that was smashed into agonising pieces would stay with her until she died. She pulled herself away from the memory and smiled softly at Tink, giving her a nudge with her shoulder.

"I'm glad that you're here."

"Well I'm glad one of us is," she said with a weak smile.

* * *

Over lunch Wendy told Tink about the feast that she has been invited to. She wanted to know if she was walking into a trap.

"I think there's no point delaying the inevitable. At least this way it's your choice to go. Maybe he'll be reasonable and listen to what you want. It's not unheard of," she said when Wendy looked uncertain.

"I want to be left alone."

"And what? You'll just stay in that cave forever?"

"Of course not. I have a plan," she said smartly and Tink cocked an eyebrow before drawing her fingers over her mouth. Peter had eyes and ears everywhere.

"So it's decided then?"

"Yes, I'll go to his silly feast."

* * *

The camp was tidier then she remembered, while living there she had tried her hardest to drill into them the importance of having a well ordered home and it seemed to have stuck. Or Peter had threatened them before she arrived, either was likely.

Feeling strangely under dressed she walked into the camp, chin held as high as it had been the first time and stopped beside the fire. The Lost Boys were all neatly lined up and as she appeared they all bowed solemnly. Before it would make her laugh but now she felt a chill go through her. At some point these would have been boys with their own special dreams and boyish obsessions but now they were no more than puppets and they had no idea.

The string puller gave his own mock bow, grin stretching his mouth while Felix remained upright. He only inclined his head at her and she was strangely pleased. Peter sprang upright and offered his hand to her, which she ignored and sat at the table where the feast was laid. There was fish, baked pig, yams, coconuts, bananas, mammee-apples, bread fruit, rolls and an assortment of things that had to have been made up because she had no idea what they were.

"You wanted to talk?"

"Yes," Peter said as he sat at the head of the table. Once sat the Lost Boys took their seats. She could see some boys clasping their hands together or make other signs and knew that they must be new while the others just grabbed what they wanted and ate.

"Well?" She gazed at him stonily and he smirked at her.

"You've grown up. Oh well, you're free of that now. I think we got off on the wrong foot Wendy -"

"You threatened to drown my entire school!" She retorted hotly.

"It was a game! You don't really think I'd do something like that do you? I've never killed anyone in my life," he said sincerely and Wendy was perturbed because she believed him, to an extent. He may not have blood on his hands directly but she had no doubt that he could rile his followers up to a bloodshed.

"You're not an honourable person," she said stiffly and he laughed.

"Honour? Please show me an honourable man! Hook thought himself that once and there's still a part clinging to that foolishness. Look at him now."

Hook, the feared pirate was a defeated man, she knew that but misery can take a lot from a person. But he was not the person in question. Wendy leaned closer to him, eyes narrowed.

"I don't know what you are, you're certainly not a boy. You're cruel and delight in trickery and I will not be part of your games. If I am to stay here then leave me in peace."

"If that's what I wanted I would have left you in England," he said, speaking low. His lip curled.

"What do you want? You made it perfectly clear that you wanted nothing more to do with me," she hissed and Peter stood suddenly. He smiled at the boys, telling them to continue eating and motioned for Wendy to follow him. She hesitated, eyeing her escape route where she knows Tink was waiting and then looked at Felix. She may as well ask one of the trees to help her.

He waited at the base of the great hollow tree until she came to him and then slid through one of the holes in the trunk to the room below. It was as she remembered it: a great cavern filled with niches and off shoots where the Lost Boys slept when it was cold. Curtains hung over roots and rugs made from reeds covered the floor. She had got them to do that, make it look more homely. Candles fluttered as they past through a curtain and came into Peter's room. It was the biggest, of course, with a wrought iron bed and at the end there was a throne like chair, carved from the tree. Above it she knew there was a way up, a way to escape but so did Peter.

He sat on the lip of the chair and smiled at her. "You were saying?"

Wendy narrowed her eyes, "You don't want them to know, do you?"

"I thought I was protecting you from embarrassment but okay."

Once she had been deeply embarrassed but she would not give him the satisfaction again. She moved up to him and pinned his eyes with her own. Her father always said that even if you're scared it's always good form to pretend and show who's boss.

"I want you to deliver a letter for me," she said and his eyebrows shot up.

"A letter?"

"Yes. A letter to my family letting them know that I'm well and not to worry," she gulped and her voice wavered but she did not cry. "So I know that it's been sent I want them to reply and I _will_ know if it's real or not."

Peter gazed at her thoughtfully. "I see. And if I refuse?"

"Then I will never speak to you again."

She knew her threat would work. If he did not want her on the island he would not have gone to such lengths to get her back. _Why_ he would want her remained to be seen.

"I'm not a postman," he said and she knew that she had won. She handed him the page, which she had found in Bae's cave, and turned to leave.

"I think you know the address," she said, about to leave when he was behind her suddenly. His proximity sent a prickling tingle through her, it always had.

"Fine but I'd like you to live in the house that we built you. Not the other place," he said firmly and she turned. He was far too close but she did not back away. Bae's cave, where she had just spent hours drawing reminders of her life in England. Somehow he knew and of course wanted her away from any recollection. She smiled at him sadly.

"I'm sorry but it won't work, even if I live in the little house for a hundred years. I won't forget."

"They all say that," he said and smiled at her with an odd tenderness. "You can hear it now, can't you?"

"It won't work," she repeated firmly and climbed quickly out of the tree. The Lost Boys were still eating and only the ones who had been there longest watched her go. As she passed she saw some of the new arrivals reaching for the make believe food and knew that they would be going to bed with empty stomachs. She made a beeline for the table, picked up the offending trays and said with as much writhing distaste as she could muster: "I don't believe in you," the pretend food vanished, every last bit.

The fooled boys watched their lunch disappear while the older boys cried out in disappointment. Their cruel fun had been spoiled. Good. By the time she leaves Neverland that won't be the only thing she'll take.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_I'm going to aim to have one chapter set in the present and another in the past and so on. Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! I'll try to update as soon as I can :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_~past~_

As she slept that first night in Neverland a strange dream beset her. She was flying high over London and Peter was beside her, not the Shadow. In her dream she could fly like a swallow, expertly cresting waves of air or darting down as quick as a bullet and he kept by her side the entire time. Below she could make out a familiar square and pointed out her house. She flew down but Peter tugged her back.

"You can't, the window is closed," he said sadly.

Wendy looked back and saw with a horrible lurch that her mother was closing the window. She ripped her hand out of Peter's and flew as quickly as she could, shouting, but her mother did not turn. Reaching the window she knocked on the glass, a nervous smile stretching her mouth until she banged a fist, a panic beginning to rise. Her mother turned out the night lights and without a backwards glance closed the door to the nursery.

"No!"

She woke with a start, disorientated and confused. Peter's room was dark and still and she sat up in his bed, getting her bearings. He had offered his bed, the nicest one in the camp until something more suitable was provided for her. She had refused, of course, but he was very persuasive. Since wishing her good night she had not seen him and she wondered where he would sleep. Still feeling a little guilty she got out of bed, the stone under her feet cold, and pulled the curtain aside. Someone was crying, very quietly but she could hear it. A boy.

"Is anyone there?"

The large room where most of the Lost Boys slept was empty but the crying continued. Frowning she made her way up to the surface, making sure to comb her fingers through her hair and make herself look presentable before she appeared. It was still dark out and the camp was as deserted as the tree-house.

"Ah, you're up," said a cheerful voice and she looked up to see Peter sitting on a branch, like something ready to pounce.

"Good morning, at least I think it is," she smiled, feeling strangely shy as he dropped down lightly before her. "I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble?"

"Oh no trouble, I don't sleep much any more," he offered her a peach which she took gratefully. He watched her as she bit into it. Juice ran over her fingers and down her chin, making her blush but knew better then to lick her fingers. She turned and cleaned her face as she walked to the now dead fire.

"Where is everyone?"

"Oh they've been busy while you slept. How did you sleep by the way?" he asked lightly.

"Fine, fine," she lied and gave an innocent smile which he returned. Though he could never look innocent, she thought, he was far too puckish for that. Finishing the fruit she cast the pip into the ashes and then looked at him quizzically. "I thought I heard someone crying, a boy."

He pulled a face and shrugged. "Well no one was here. It was probably the wind through the branches. Come, I want to show you something, I think you'll like it," he said and took her hand. Any thoughts about crying boys were gone and she followed him, anticipation twisting her stomach pleasantly. Now the adventures would begin, that was why she was here after all. He drew her through the camp, near the back and before she had time to react he moved behind her and placed his hands over her eyes.

"Peter?"

"It's a surprise, trust me," he said, his mouth near her ear and her stomach gave another pleasant squirm, though this had nothing to be with the prospect of adventures. With him at her back he guided her a little way before stopping and then quickly removed his hands from her face.

Wendy blinked in the dim light but then quickly clasped her hands together in delight. He had made her a house. It was constructed from planks of wood and vines and there was a real brass knocker in the shape of wolf on the door. Two small windows framed the door and she could see net curtains covering them. There was even a little path with a pansy filled border. She turned to Peter, grinning from ear to ear.

"Is this really for me?"

"Of course! You don't think I'd let you bunk in with the rest of us do you? You're a lady," he explained smoothly and she beamed. She was no lady, not in a real way like at home but here she was to be treated as such. Her brothers could learn a thing or two...

"Thank you! I don't know what to say," she quickly hugged him, something he must not have expected because he froze and did not respond. Brimming with happiness she pulled away and ran up the path but then made herself stop before bursting through the door. She pushed inside, breath held and her mouth fell open. The room was split into two, an eating area with a table and chairs at one end while in the other a great brass bed was placed. Lace hung over it, so she was shielded and beside it was a screen so she could get undressed. There was even a jug for washing, though someone had put a bunch of flowers in it. Candles flickered everywhere, giving the room a warm, intimate feeling.

Peter moved behind her, smiling at her obvious delight. "I take it you approve?"

"It's wonderful! I've never had a room to myself before..."

"Well now you have."

She stared at him in amazement, "Where did you get all these things? Are they real?" she asked, suddenly unsure.

"Most of it...don't worry about the how and where. Just know that it was time well spent," he said with a lovely smile and she could not help staring.

Her mother had told her that she should be wary of people being overtly generous. Though it would be wonderful to expect all people to behave altruistically for most there was a reason for it. Her father, to be contrary, had said that she should not look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever that meant. Seeing the conflict in her eyes Peter titled his head.

"What's wrong? If you don't like it I'll get them to start again."

"No, no! I love it! I just feel that I can never do the same in return," she said honestly and he shrugged.

"Don't concern yourself with such adult things. I don't," he looked at the door, suddenly itching to get out and grabbed her hand again. "Come on, you can spend as long as you like in here but I want to show you what the island has to offer."

She grinned, all but bouncing on her feet and followed him out. He was right, concerning herself with adult quibbles of what was proper had no place here, at least not all of them. When he started to run she let out a wild laugh and ran with him and the ribbon in her hair uncoiled and drifted free before snagging on a branch. A hundred years later it was still there.

* * *

There were many camps, Wendy later found out, and that was where the Lost Boys had spent the night, after completing her house. There had also been rumbles of the mermaids getting too close to the shore and the boys were there to drive them off.

"Are mermaids so bad?" she asked with some disbelief. They were sunbathing on a flat rock, over looking the aptly named Mermaids lagoon. Peter was lying flat on his back, gazing at the clouds above but Wendy was on her feet, looking in every direction.

"These ones are. They're man eaters."

"They are not!" she said, appalled as Peter sat up.

"Why do you think they pull sailors into the sea?"

Wendy shivered in disgust, very disappointed and Peter pulled her down to sit next to him. He seemed deeply amused by her revulsion.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news," he said solemnly but was anything but.

"No, it's all right. I guess I was silly to think that everything would be like in a storybook...but I'd still like to see one, for all that." Even if they were an abomination she would never forgive herself if she went home without at least seeing one with her own eyes.

"At a safe distance," he said and eyed her as she rotated her shoulders with a wince. The cut had healed but now there was a huge purple bruise that bloomed over her shoulder. On her night gown were brown blood stains and she worried over it.

"Nana will be displeased."

"Nana?"

"Our nurse. She's a dog, we couldn't afford a proper nurse you see" she explained seriously and he laughed. Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I see. Well here you can just wish away the stain and the bruise. Close your eyes and believe that it's gone," he said encouragingly and she did as she was told.

"Mind over matter," she whispered and then opened her eyes. The blood was gone and so was the bruise, though she could feel a very faint throb. Close enough.

"Good job! Do you have a cat for a maid too?"

Wendy laughed. "No, Liza's just your regular human I'm afraid. I have two brothers: Michael, the youngest and John, the middle child. And then there's Baelfire," she said, realising with a stab of guilt that she had not really thought of her brothers or Bae since she came to Neverland.

"Baelfire?" he said with a light frown. "What an unusual name."

"Yes I thought so too but he's wonderful! He's like you!" She said excitedly.

"Like me?" he said with unmistakable incredulity.

"Well, not exactly like you but he's from another world!"

"Really?" he said, cocking his head in interest.

"He comes from a land with magic, though he does not share our appreciation for it. He blames it for the destruction of his family," she said but then felt guilty again. She should not be telling a stranger another's personal plights but she felt that Peter would be sympathetic.

"Well they do say magic comes with a price. I'd like to meet him, this Baelfire and show him that magic is not all bad. Your brothers to."

"Do you promise? I know John and Michael would be absolutely over the moon if they could come!" She grinned, imagining them all together.

"I promise and I never break a promise," he said firmly. "But not until you've had the full experience yourself. Sometimes it's nice to get away from family."

She could not argue with that. As a girl approaching womanhood she had to admit that sharing the nursery with her brothers was getting on her nerves a bit. Not for the first time she wished that she had a sister. Wendy stared back at the jungle thoughtfully.

"Peter why are there no Lost Girls?"

"Oh girls are far too smart to get lost," he said smartly but then sighed, shrugging. "Truth is I hardly ever bring girls here."

She straightened, affronted. "Why?"

"Nothing personal," he said quickly. "The real reason..." Peter gazed at her deeply and she stopped breathing. He seemed to be debilitating about what to say until finally he spoke again. "Magic is dying Wendy, not just here but everywhere."

"What? That's terrible," she put a shocked hand over her mouth. He nodded grimly.

"Your world had magic once but it died out."

"I knew it!" she said passionately, hitting her knee which made him smile. He leaned in closer, voice low and she hung on every word.

"There was prophecy about a boy who would restore magic. A boy with the heart of the truest believer. I've been searching for him," his voice became oddly hollow and she wondered why.

"You've had no luck?"

"No but I'm...optimistic," he answered cagily. "So that's why I only have Lost Boys and no girls."

"But that doesn't explain why I'm here," she said, getting carefully to her feet.

"Because you wanted to be. You got me in a weak moment but I admit it's nice not to be burdened with the search for that boy, at least for awhile."

Wendy smiled down at him, pleased and not a little smug that she was the only one. She looked out to sea and squinted, shielding her eyes with a hand. The light was growing brighter and on the horizon she could make out a shape.

"Is that a ship?"

"Looks like it. Hook has returned," he said with a bored sigh.

"He's a pirate?"

"The captain of the Jolly Roger," Peter said and laid down, utterly unconcerned. Not wanting to be the only who was worried she sat and paddled her feet in the water, resting on her back. The lapping of the water against the rock was soothing, as was the sound of his breathing and soon her eyelids grew heavy. The waves tugged on the hem of her gown rhythmically and it was only when she felt something cold tickling her feet did she realise that she was sliding very slowly into the water. Suddenly hands wrapped themselves around her ankles and yanked her down.

"Peter!"

He moved so quickly that she didn't even see him sit up, let alone draw his knife. One moment he was beside her and the next he was roughly pulling a mermaid out of the water by her hair. The tip of his sharp weapon was at the mermaid's throat, who was baring her teeth at him.

"Let her go or I'll cut your throat," he warned darkly and the mermaid hissed but let go. Wendy scrabbled up the rock and got shakily to her feet. Peter was still holding the mermaid by the hair, dagger pressed against her skin.

"Peter..."

"Don't worry Wendy. You must be new here," he addressed the mermaid who did not look like the devil creature that wanted to eat her but a scared young girl. "So I won't punish you but just so we're clear if you touch anyone on this island again I will gut you," he said with the utmost politeness and released her.

The mermaid gave them one sharp look of terror and then disappeared with a splash. Peter stood with a contended sigh and sheathed his dagger. Wendy stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say or think. Seeing her conflict he came to her, smiling softly.

"Sorry about that. I'm very clear about my rules and she obviously missed the decree. Now she won't come within a hundred feet of Neverland," he said and jumped down onto the sand, offering a hand to help her off the rock. Wendy stared down at him.

"But you wouldn't have really hurt her, would you?"

"Would you hurt something that wanted to kill one of your brothers, given the chance?"

Wendy remained silent, knowing that she would have done much more than just point a knife at someone if they threatened her family. She took his hand and jumped down onto the beach.

"But it's still all make believe, isn't it? It's still a game?"

"Everything's a game Wendy!" he said with a beaming smile and she felt a little better. If she was to go near the water she would have to learn how to swim and told Peter, who agreed. As they made their way back into the jungle he stopped and offered something to her.

"What is it?"

"It came away in my hand. Here, have it, it's the least she could do."

It was a beautiful pearl encrusted comb, made with some kind of ivory but somehow she doubted it was that. She took it and felt something inflate inside her, something that she had not felt before. A boy had never given her a gift, only her brothers had ever done that. She took it as a sign because what else could it be? If a man gives a woman a gift and neither are attached then that is taken as a sign of interest and maybe even something more. Wendy, with her romantic heart, placed the comb carefully into her hair and curtsied in thanks.

"Oh, you're welcome," Peter said in return and bowed. Staring at the ground Wendy did not see the look of confusion on his face but noticed his frequent glances at her on the way back and stored them away to inspect later.

* * *

Her secret sense of superiority in her lone gender was dashed when she was told that she was not the only girl on the island.

"Tinkerbell," Peter said as he lead her into a different part of the jungle. "She's a fairy."

Wendy stopped dead in her tracks. "A fairy? A real fairy?"

"Yes, well as close to it. She's come down in the world you see," he said with mock pity but Wendy was positively quivering with excitement. "That's who I'm taking you to," he explained and she almost burst. Dancing on the spot she laughed rapturously and he grinned.

"Not to bring you down but you might want to put your expectations a touch lower," he said, placing a hand by his knee. Wendy waved a dismissive hand, far too happy to think that Tinkerbell could be anything less than wonderful. As a young girl she had been obsessed with all things fey and so nothing he could say would disarm her.

"She can't be worse than mermaids, surely!"

"Well..."

He stopped beneath a vastly tall tree and and pulled a cord which lead up to a small tree house far above. There was no answer and Peter shrugged, grabbing a rung of the ladder.

"She might be asleep,"

"Should we wake her?"

"Yes, she's terribly lazy and spends most of her days wallowing in self pity. Visiting her may do her a world of good," he said and began to climb. Wendy looked up, envying the easy way he ascended and wished that she had such stamina. There was not much call for rope climbing at Roedean Girl's School.

"But I do excel at sewing. Maybe I could stitch myself a pair of wings and fly," she gritted to herself, reaching for the next rung. Peter was waiting for her, hanging lazily by one hand. Though it would be gallant for him to lend a hand she would never accept. Like all girls who have only brothers she was determined to make it on her own. So with much wheezing and pain she finally made it to Peter, who was trying not to laugh.

"Not a word," she warned, knowing that her face must be very flushed.

"I said nothing. Come on, lets wake your first fairy," he rapped his knuckles on the bottom on the trap door but didn't wait for an invite. He climbed in and Wendy followed.

The tree house was small and sparse but for some reason there seemed to be a collection of pans and kettles in different stages of repair. Through a small, lopsided window was a view that took Wendy's breath away but she only had eyes for the slight figure lying sprawled in a hammock.

Tinkerbell was not a girl, she was woman and at that moment was she snoring very softly. She had an arm flung over her eyes so most of her face was hidden but Wendy could see she was beautiful. She narrowed her eyes and bent down slightly, looking for wings.

"If you want a kettle take one," said a sleepy voice and Wendy straightened. Tinkerbell was awake and looking at them grumpily, though she did look shocked to see Wendy.

"Tink mends the pots and pans," Peter explained quietly as Tink swung down from her bed and went to the window. Her back was wingless. Wendy stared at Peter incredulously.

"Are you sure you have the right tree?" she asked very quietly.

"I'm the only fairy on the island and no I don't have wings. Anything else you'd like to know?" Tink asked, turning to her. Her face was sharp and Wendy felt ashamed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offence," she stumbled. Peter waved a hand.

"You can't blame her for being disappointed Tink, though I did warn her. She's a disgraced fairy, she was banished and ended up here," he said with a little to much relish. Tink glared at him and he laughed.

"Don't be rude Peter," Wendy said through her teeth and he threw his hands up. For all his politeness he could be equally tactless. He _was_ a boy after all.

"Tell you what, so as not to cause any more offence I'll leave you two to get to know each other. I'll be back soon," he said to Wendy and then disappeared down the trap door before she could say anything.

Wendy smiled at Tinkerbell awkwardly while the fairy went about her business as if she was not there. Wendy stood against a wall and while Tink did not look at Wendy her face became increasingly angry until she suddenly turned to her.

"Why are you here?"

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to intrude! Peter knew how much I wanted to see a fairy and well..." she trailed off lamely.

"I'm not something to be ogled at," Tink said but her anger seemed to fade slightly.

"I know! I really am sorry. I was terribly excited to meet you, I still am" Wendy said happily and Tink hesitated.

"Yeah?"

"Of course! In my world there are no fairies, not any more. So it's a great pleasure to meet you Tinkerbell."

Maybe she had forgotten what being appreciated felt like or maybe she had never been revered even with her wings but Wendy's simple and honest delight touched the gloomy fairy more then she could say. She came forward and waved the kettle gently at her.

"Would you like some tea Wendy?"

Over steaming mugs of sweet, green tea Wendy told Tink of her life in London and how she came to be in Neverland. For her part Tink mentioned a little of her past but it was obviously something that still caused her great pain. Wendy felt angry at herself for being disappointed with such a pitiful creature. However every time Wendy mentioned Peter something dark came into the fairy's eyes, offset by Wendy's words of fondness. Finally she could not ignore the look of worry.

"What is it?"

"Be careful where he's concerned Wendy. He's not all he appears to be," she said weakly and Wendy nodded.

"I know, I never imagined that I'd meet someone like him," she lost focus, a soft smile playing over her lips. Tink stared at her sadly.

"Just please be careful," she repeated.

"Be careful of what?"

"Your heart."

Wendy blinked at her and in that moment she did not see a fairy in front of her but an adult. This place was not to be filled with worries or warnings, she would not hear of it and offered Tink a sharp, bright smile.

"You're very dramatic, aren't you?"

"All fairies are. And well, it's not every day I get to talk to another woman. Boys are such silly beasts," Tink said with a grimace and Wendy laughed. At least she could agree with that.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_I feel that I have to give Wendy some "good" times before it all goes to pot. I could go on and on but I need to get on with the next chapter. Thanks again for reading and reviewing, it's greatly appreciated!_


	5. Chapter 5

_~present~_

Throughout the nights that followed she could hear the intermittent sobs of a child, the kind where you try to stop but can't and where you don't want anyone else to know. She had heard it before and could do nothing but now she would try. The first plan of action was to destroy the pan pipes and stop that influence over the boys for as long as it was possible.

Wendy crouched down in the grass and watched as a trope of boys walked along the shore, spears and arrow heads glinting faintly. The oldest, the ones who had been there longest, took the lead while the youngest trailed at the back. She eyed them carefully, looking for the weak link and zeroed on a small boy. He had to be no more then five or six and her heart broke for him. He carried a short club and every now and then he would take a swing at a passing seagull or become sidetracked by something in the sand. By a stroke of good luck he became so distracted that the others left him behind and by the time he stared up he was alone. Wendy took her chance.

"That's a pretty shell, isn't it?" she said sweetly and the boy whipped around. In his hand was a huge conch. He looked utterly shocked to see her.

"Who – who are you?"

"No one of importance," she said and took the shell and placed it over her ear, smiling. At once the boy was intrigued and a little miffed that she had taken his shell.

"Why are you doing that?"

"To listen to the sea of course. Haven't you ever done that?"

He shook his head and Wendy gently placed the shell against his ear. The look of wonder on his face was equal parts heart warming and breaking. He snatched the shell from her and from that point on the shell was glued to the side of his head.

"Is it magic?" he asked and Wendy shrugged.

"Probably," she looked up and down the beach and then down at him quizzically. "Did you come here with your parents?"

"My what?"

"Your mother or father? Maybe even your governess," she said and something in his eyes changed. He seemed to lose focus for a moment and he gazed in confusion.

"My mummy...?"

"That's right, mummy. Is she here?" she asked. She felt cruel for asking him such a deceptive question but she had to break Peter's spell over him, even just a little.

"Here? I – I don't know. I was walking with Poppy and then – then I got lost." He looked exceedingly confused and Wendy leaned down and hugged him. He reminded her painfully of Michael.

"It's all right. What's your name?"

"Curly," he says and Wendy ruffled his curly hair. He was a grubby, confused little boy and Wendy did not want to let him go. "I'd very much like it if you could do one thing Curly."

"What?"

"Remember what your mummy looks like. Before you go to sleep picture her in your mind as hard as you can. That way -"

"There you are, come on slow poke."

A lost boy was coming towards them and Wendy straightened. It was Tootles, the one who had shot her down by accident. Ever since she had unwittingly saved his life he had been marginally accommodating with her. Wendy smiled in greeting.

"Good afternoon," she said as Tootles grabbed Curly and pushed him forward, ignoring Wendy. She tilted her face. "I'm very well, thank you," she said mockingly and the older boy sighed.

"Peter says that we're not to speak to you," he explained, not looking at her.

"Why?"

He shrugged and began walking, pulling Curly along when he fell behind. The little boy waved to her before they disappeared into the jungle and she waved back feebly. It was going to be incredibly difficult, swaying the boys from Peter but she had to try.

* * *

If you believed enough you could make just about anything a reality in Neverland, and that went for the state of clothing too. If she wanted to she could pretend that her night gown was not soiled or ripped but in the back of her mind she knew the truth. No one could fool themselves so completely and she would not. She would clean and eat and sleep just as she would have done back in England. She would be the one point of antithesis in that land of make believe.

Peter hated it, she knew. He was aware of every grain of sand on the island, felt the tides and currents in his bones so if there was one traitorous point of boring, adult seriousness he could feel it like a splinter in his skin. So when he came to her one day suddenly she was not surprised, though he could not have picked a less convenient time.

She stood in the knee high waters, night gown gathered around her knees and reached towards the waterfall when he cleared his throat behind her. She let her gown fall into the water and turned quickly. He looked startled but she knew it was an act.

"Sorry, should I come back another time?"

"Were you spying on me?" she felt her cheeks flush from a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Do give me some credit. Though it's nice to know that your mind does have a salacious bent to it," he said with a smirk. "Scandalous."

"Shut up. What are you doing here?"

"Delivering a letter, just as you requested," he pulled an envelope out and offered it to her. Wendy hesitated for just a second before she waded forward and snatched the letter from him. Standing shin deep she tore it open with shaking hands.

"Hope you don't mind but I had a peak. It says that they love and miss you, that your parents are searching the country for you and," he said with an eye roll, "that Michael and John will do everything in their power to find you."

Wendy ignored him and read but everything he said was true. It was John who had written, his penmanship had improved she thought proudly. She pulled the paper to her face and inhaled. Maybe she imagined it but it smelt of home. She looked back up, tears in her eyes and Peter's mouth thinned.

"You better hope for their sake that they don't try to rescue you."

"How could they? No one enters or leaves this place without your permission," she said faintly and he smiled.

"That's right." He watched her as she reread the letter again and again, trying not to cry in front of him when he sighed. "Come on, cheer up. It's not all bad."

"Not all bad!" she cried. "How can you possibly say that?"

"Well from my point of view it's going well. You're here," he said with surprising gentleness and she stared at him as if he were mad. He smiled at her expression and offered a hand to her. "Come on, you can't sleep in tree hollows and ditches any longer. You do have your own home or have you forgotten?"

Knowing that he would not leave until she complied she stepped out of the pool and followed, her gown dripping and soon stemming in the heat of the jungle. He did not lead her towards the camp but instead as far from it as possible.

"Why are we going this way?"

"Oh, right," he said and turned. "When you left your house was destroyed," he said with a wince. "But some of the things inside were salvageable."

Wendy stared at his back thoughtfully as he continued walking. When he had banished her he had been genuinely angry and she had no trouble imagining that he had destroyed her little house in a fit of pique. It made her feel oddly relieved, to know that he did have some human reactions to things, be it anger. Her thoughts were interrupted when they came to a cave and he lead her up a bamboo ladder that disappeared within. He was right, most of her things were there, like the bed and curtains but it was the opposite to her cosy, little home. It had an unnatural feel to it.

"It looks like a set in a theatre production," she said and he looked around, considering.

"I guess it does a bit. Well you always said this place was fake so here you go," he gestured for her to sit, which she did gingerly. Here they were quite alone and when he sat down next to her she stiffened. She stared down at the letter in her lap.

"You know he didn't tell you everything that had happened," Peter said softly and she looked up.

"What?"

"Well the majority of your friends and family think you're either dead or disgraced. Or both. Most think you ran away to be with Bae. It's quite the scandal," he seemed delighted.

"You're lying," she said, pursing her lips while the letter scrunched in her fingers.

"Am I? What else are they expected to think? Wendy is not_ really_ a fallen girl, she's actually on a magical island with a boy who doesn't grow up," he said, pointing at himself and laughing. "You know how their minds work Wendy. You'd have nothing to return to, nothing good."

She did not want to admit it but he was right. People are far more ready to think the worst and the truth was impossible. But what people thought did not matter, only her family. "I do have something to go back for."

"I'm sorry but it won't last. After a few years your parents, your father first probably, will try to move on with their lives. Can you blame them? You know time works differently here."

Wendy frowned at him. "How long do you expect me to stay Peter?"

"For as long as it takes," he said through clenched teeth and she looked away, disgusted and confused. He gazed at her thoughtfully, tilting his head. "I know what you're thinking, what you're planning. It won't work," he said.

"You don't know what I think."

"You want to turn the boys against me," he smiled in bemusement. "You know it's a fool's errand."

She looked at him hotly, "You're keeping those boys prisoner and warping them and they don't even know it. It's not right!"

"_Right? _Before they came here they were abandoned and probably would have died. Here they have their true family," he said passionately and Wendy was shocked to see he meant it.

"Everything you say is lies. I think you've even managed to fool yourself about a great many things," she said and felt something sharp and hot writhe in her. For the last year she had been trying to forget about it, to ignore what she feels but here it was impossible. Peter's mouth quirked.

"Bitterness is not a good look on you Wendy-bird," he said and reached for her face but she leaned back.

"I'd rather be bitter then brainwashed like them or a cruel degenerate like you!"

Offended, he put a hand to his chest, lips twitching all the while. "You wound me!"

"I won't give up and won't stop fighting," she glared at him and he shook his head, eyebrows rising.

"All this because I turned you down. I would have thought you'd take it more gracefully. Bad form, as our alcoholic friend likes to say."

Her eyes grew wide and she could feel a scream building in her throat. For a moment she was not Wendy Darling, daughter of a, somewhat, respectful banker but something else. Something that wanted to scratch the smug smile off his lips, something that wanted to hurl herself against him and beat him with her fists and curse. Peter had his body turned towards her, poised, titillated by her rage. Chest heaving she saw the excitement in his eyes, the way he seemed to drink in her passion and knew that it fed him, somehow. She forced herself to be calm, fisting the bed clothes below and closed her eyes. If he wanted a rise he would not get it.

"Why am I here?" she asked weakly. "Do you delight in tormenting me?"

"It may shock you but no, I don't," he visibly relaxed but looked disappointed that she did not lose control. "I know you don't believe me but I _am_ fond of you, despite the...misunderstanding. You keep me on my toes and well, I love a challenge," his eyes gleamed.

"A challenge? What can you hope to win?"

He said nothing, just smiled and looked at her intensely and her skin crawled. He got to his feet finally and stared down at her. "I promised that I would leave you in peace and I will but I'll be keeping an eye on you, to make sure you're not up to any mischief."

She wanted to make all sorts of mischief, she wanted to make his life hell and he would probably enjoy it, to an extent. But she knew not to provoke him because then it stops being a game and people die.

"Never thought Peter Pan would be warning _against_ mischief making," she said dryly and he laughed.

"I must be getting old!" he said but the smile faded from his face. "You think you can handle being alone but soon you'll be the one seeking me out. No one can endure an eternity alone," he said and she could not ignore his haunted eyes. She looked down, not wanting to feel any softness for him. When she looked back up he was gone.

* * *

The first time she had seen Captain Hook it had been under awful circumstances and was something that she would like to forget. She suspects he feels the same way. Every so often Tink would venture down from her tree house but she would not go to the camp but to the shore where she would get into a small boat made from leaves and vines and row to the _Jolly Roger_. She did not tell Wendy why or what happened there but she could guess and at the time it made her blush. Now she realised Tink had been mixing business along with pleasure.

"Beans," Wendy whispered, watching the fairy prepare her boat. It was the dead of night and not a soul was about. Though the fairy did not tell her out right she had summarised that while acting as a go between for Peter and Hook she had also been a deliverer of a special commodity.

"You'd make a terrible spy Wendy," Tink said, not turning and Wendy stood up quickly.

"You're going to the ship, aren't you?"

"I can't take you, it's no place for a girl," she said as Wendy came to her side.

"I'm not a girl. I just want to get away from the island, if only for awhile," she pleaded and Tink smirked.

"You're also a terrible liar. I can't give you a bean, I'm sorry."

She knew Tink would give magical beans to Hook, who would then use them under Peter's orders. Learning that the pirate had been under his influence had been shocking but now she wondered why she even doubted it. There was nothing on the island or around it that Peter did not control. Or at least try to.

"I'm not asking you to do anything! Deliver them as instructed. Just let me accompany you and I'll handle the rest," she gazed at her desperately and Tink sighed.

"If I refuse I'll know you'll do something stupid like swim there."

Wendy smiled. "See, it would be saving us from a world of bother." She helped pushed the boat into the water and then climbed in as Tink started to row with a surly expression.

"This is a bad idea and he'll end up blaming me."

"I will take full responsibility, if it comes to that. I promise." Wendy swore and stared out to sea. The ship was cast off not to far from the island, to make it easier for Tink and as they drew closer Wendy's heart started to thud. Tink motioned for her to lie down before covering her with a tarp.

"Thank you Tinkerbell."

"Don't thank me when Peter comes for you," she sighed and then called out. Wendy watched her climb up the side of the ship and disappear. She could hear men greeting her and then silence fell. She waited for a long while before throwing the cover off and with a prayer she started to climb up the net.

* * *

Most of the crew were asleep or in a drunken stupor and Wendy crept along as quiet as a ghost. If any did wake and see her blurry, white figure that was what they took her for and superstitiously closed their eyes and prayed. She made her way towards the captain's quarters, keeping to the shadows and stilled when she came to the correct door. It was the most lavish and from inside she could hear faint music but nothing else. Taking a chance she pushed the door and saw bottles and goblets on a table while music played from a gramophone. She was avoiding looking at the sleeping couple but she could not tear her eyes away for long. Tink was resting with her head on Hook's shoulder who was asleep beneath her. It was a strangely lovely image, though she could imagine what lead to them getting there.

_Get your mind out of the gutter Darling and find a bean! _

She tip toed to the table, looking for one amongst the glasses and plates, almost mistaking a grape for one when a noise made her blood freeze. Someone was outside the door, shuffling just outside and Wendy watched the door in dread. After an age the person moved off and she exhaled a quiet breath. She looked back and Tink was staring at her, head still on the pirate's chest.

Wendy said nothing, did not make a move until the fairy looked at the floor tellingly and then back up at her. Frowning, Wendy moved around the table and saw in a pile of discarded clothes a small draw string bag. Eyes never leaving the sleeping pirate she crouched down and pulled the bag open and tipped it over her palm. The bean was blue, clear and seemed to sparkle and Wendy was entranced for a moment. Placing the bag back where she found it she stood and looked at Tink. The fairy smiled at her and then closed her eyes and Wendy left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Victory and adrenaline coursing through her she made no attempt to hide herself as she ran to the deck but as she reached it she heard a shout and crash from behind her.

"RUN WENDY!"

The sleeping pirates around her woke with a start and stared at her in amazement. Wendy wasted no time. She climbed over the banister and down the net but her progress was hindered as she carried the bean. The net started to be tugged up and she looked to see the pirates pulling as Hook came dashing into view. Not knowing what else to do she popped the bean into her mouth and used both hands to descend.

"Heave! Don't let that girl get away!"

She reached the end of the net and looked up as more pirates pulled it up. She stared down and let go of the net and one thought went through her head as she fell:

_Don't bite down. _She had to stop herself laughing hysterically as she hit the water. Surfacing she thanked god that she had learned to swim and made for the boat and climbed in with difficulty. She frantically untied the boat and cast off as Hook started to be lowered into the water himself in another boat. She started to row with all her strength but she was no match for a centuries old pirate. He over took her with ease and jumped into her vessel, almost over turning it. Wendy spat the bean into her hand and moved her fist over the churning water.

"I'll drop it, I swear," she warned, scared but resolute.

"I can't let you do that I'm afraid," he said, breathing heavily.

"I just want to go home!" she cried desperately and Hook smiled sadly at her.

"Do you think you're the only one love? Everyone that sets foot on Neverland wanted to go home at one point, I'm sure even that boy did too." He moved towards her but she twisted her hand upright and opened her fist. The bean wobbled on her palm.

"I'll do it!" she said again and he sighed.

"If that was the case you would have done it already. Why haven't you?"

Wendy hesitated, eyes fixed on him before she suddenly started to cry. She had wanted to rescue the boys, as many as she could but now she had lost her chance. As she drew her hand back, tears running down her cheeks Hook looked deeply uncomfortable.

"There, there. It was a gallant attempt, there's not many that can pull one over me. Me and Tink shall be having some words," he said darkly and Wendy straightened.

"Don't hurt her, she didn't have anything to do with this."

"I'm not going to hurt her. Maybe give her a damn good spanking," he said with a rakish grin and Wendy pulled a scandalised face which made him laugh. "My manners are shocking today, forgive me. May I?" He pointed at the oars and with a defeated air she nodded. He began rowing her back to shore and she stared sadly into the middle distance. He shook his head with a sigh.

"If it was in my power I'd take you home. This is no place for a girl."

"I just wanted to help them... Why don't you stand up against him?"

"What would be the point? You remember what became of my original crew when they thought they'd go against him?"

She would never forget, it haunted her nightmares. "I remember."

"If Pan wants you then there's no running away or hiding. It took me a long time to realise that. I am sorry sweetheart," he said and meant it. Wendy nodded, looking at the bean in her hand miserably. Hook gazed her thoughtfully. "You've got much honour for someone so young."

"But honour doesn't get you off Neverland," she said dejectedly. "And an honourable person doesn't steal." She offered the bean back to him which he took after hesitating. He narrowed his eyes as the boat made land.

"A person does what they can to survive."

"But at what price?"

They fell silent, neither moving and Wendy stared at him and suddenly missed her father and mother a painful amount. "Do you have any children Captain?"

He smiled sadly. "I've never been that lucky...good luck Wendy."

He helped her out of the boat but did not let go of her hand. He stared at her intently. "You don't get off this island by being honourable, you get off by being smart. Don't steal something that he'll miss. Go to the source."

"Peter?"

He shook his head and spoke lower. "I don't know where he keeps the beans but it must be very well protected. There's only one place I can think of that no one in their right minds would dare venture: the Dark Hollow."

Wendy shivered. She had heard that the Hollow was cursed and haunted and Peter had warned all never to go near it. If he had something that he wanted no one else to get their hands on that would be the most likely place to hide it.

Hook inclined his head in farewell. "Don't risk your life over an uncertainty. It's a bloody farce but the only true way off this island is to side with him, as much as you hate it."

"I'd rather be mermaid bate," she said as he rowed away.

Wendy looked at the jungle, casting her eyes to the highest peak and nodded. "Be smart." She walked into the jungle, heading towards Bae's cave. He had been in Neverland for goodness knows how long, he must have left something behind that could help her.

* * *

But as expected most of his possessions were now gone, removed by the Lost Boys after she had stayed there. She searched through trunks and in crevices but could not find anything that could help her. She did find his red dressing gown that her mother had got him and Wendy put it on, aching even more for home. She stared at the walls, at the scrawls in chalk and ideally played with a candle flame that was stuck in a teacup. Her shadow flickered against a wall, the only other inhabitant. Bae had made an awful lot of candles, placed in all sorts of holders and if all were lit they must have banished every shadow.

"Shadows, shadows..." suddenly she straightened, an idea blooming to life in her mind. She leaned close to the flame, fingers hovering over the wick before she snuffed the light out with a secretive smile.

"Got you."

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_I can't be the only one that thought those flirty looks and greeting between Tink and Hook hinted at something? ;)_

_Thanks once again for the amazing reviews and all the people who are following this story! Next update might not be tomorrow but the next day but I'll try.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

_~past~_

She grabbed her hair and rung it like a wet wash cloth between her hands, water dripping through her fingers before she flung the length over her back. It was getting longer. Not for the first time she wondered how long she had actually been on the island. Sometimes it felt like a very long time but she did not feel weary. Every morning she woke as excited and interested as the first time but she thought it must have been a few weeks by now.

Her swimming lessons were going very well, her legs strengthening and soon she could dive and touch the seabed, bringing up shells and startled crabs. With a swimsuit, where he had found such a thing she had no idea, covering her modestly Peter had taken her swimming almost everyday. At first she had been wary, at fifteen she had started to gain a more womanly figure but she may as well have been a bag of potatoes where all the boys were concerned. What really worried her was thought of the mermaid but it seemed his threat had an impact because she did not see another one until that fateful morning.

"Peter look!" She pointed out to sea where as she watched heads bobbed into view. A dozen mermaids were surfacing and though they were at a great distance she felt her stomach tighten in fear.

"Hmm, what's got their attention?" he wondered and helped her out of the water. Wrapped in a blanket she followed him until they reached a cluster of rocks where a great commotion was happening. A group of Lost Boys were throwing something to the seagulls, something which she mistook for bread. As she got closer she saw that they had a great chest open at their feet and were throwing an assortment of gems and coins into the air. When a seagull swooped down and took a jewel the boys laughed, in fact she was sure they were taking score.

"That's not very nice," she said with a frown.

"Don't worry, they're dropping them, see?" Peter said and it was true, the gems were falling from their bills but Wendy was sure some unfortunate bird had swallowed some by mistake. Wendy watched them a they threw rubies, pearls, emeralds and what she took to be diamonds into the water like they were skipping stones and could not take any more.

"I really don't think you should be doing that!" she said to Tootles who turned, ready to lob a ruby the size of her fist into the sea.

"But it's fun! Try it!" He said and handed her the jewel before grabbing a fist full of coins and throwing them like rice at a wedding.

"Fun..." she looked down at it's perfectly faceted face as Peter came up behind her and spoke into her ear.

"Don't be worried Wendy. After all what are riches and wealth in this place?"

"But this must belong to someone."

"Yes, until it was stolen by pirates. What use is it to them here? Anyway we found it," he said as if that settled the matter and reached for a coin. He squinted an eye, drew his hand back and made the coin skip along the water. The boys crowed and asked to be shown how he did it.

Wendy bounced the ruby, which would buy her Bloomsbury house ten fold, and with a rush of daring she let it fall into the sea with a plunk. It was, even after everything, one of the most thrilling feelings of reckless youth that she had ever experienced. Cares to the wind she grabbed a fist full of pearls and scattered them before her. Coming back to her house that night she had been practically bouncing with satisfaction, feeling nothing but a swirling joy and burgeoning deep affection and as she dressed for bed she did not for a moment believe that anything could spoil it.

But everyone knew that you don't steal from pirates and get away with it.

* * *

When she woke it was not to the sound of birds or even the laughter of boys but the gruff breathing of men. Wendy, half asleep, opened her eyes into a profound darkness and then immediately sat up. Her hands and ankles were bound tightly and someone had gagged her. Breathing heavily she looked up and saw a ring of pirates around her.

"Good morning miss," one of them who wore a red hat said politely while the others either glanced or ignored her completely.

Wendy closed her eyes, wishing them away and to only find herself in her house and away from this nightmare but they were still there when she looked. She moaned in fear and shuffled forward but someone put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. And good thing too, any further and she would have toppled right over and fell to her death.

She was in a great cave and directly before her was an abyss, the kind that draws your eye and wants you to lean closer and look down. Wendy tore her eyes away and glared up at the pirates. The one in the red hat looked down at her apologetically.

"Sorry about this, it's nothing personal. I didn't really want to come but the others were so angry about the treasure chest. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, as they say."

Wendy lifted her bound hands, begging with her eyes and then demanding when the pirate didn't move. He was clearly the most sympathetic to her plight because he started to bend down when one of the others pushed him away.

"Leave her be. We need to show him that we mean business."

"And what _business_ could you possibly have with me?"

At the sound of Peter's voice she almost wept with joy. He was standing at the other side of the cave, the abyss between them. There was no way for him to cross, not without pixie dust and if he had she knew he would have rescued her by now. He was staring at the pirates with an expression she had seen only once, when the mermaid had tried to drown her and it was as unsettling now as it was then. Despite the distance all of the pirates drew their weapons and pointed them at Peter, who just stood and stared.

"We want to negotiate: this girl in exchange for a way out of Neverland."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "And if I refuse?"

Wendy screeched as she was roughly pulled up and pushed to the cave edge. If the pirate let go she would fall into that darkness and whatever was below. She stared at Peter, tears making her vision blurred so she could only guess what expression he wore but by the sound of his voice it must have been awful.

"I wouldn't do that again, not if you want to find me agreeable. Unbind her and we'll talk."

She was pulled back and her heart pounded against her ribs as a blade cut her ankles and hands free. She ripped the gag from her mouth and struggled away from the pirates. But she had nowhere to go, only down. Almost hyperventilating she searched the cavern for a way across and eyed the edges. It was dangerous but there was enough handholds to grip onto. As if knowing what she was thinking Peter spoke to her, holding out a hand.

"Easy Wendy-bird."

"He's right love, not unless you can fly," a pirate said and poked her. Later she thought that there was no real menace in the prod, it was just to scare her a little but he did not count on the loose rock under her foot or they way she would turn so quickly at the contact. With a gasp she lost her footing and went over the edge. The rocks scrapped against her skin, along her arms and legs, drawing blood but she was too scared to feel it.

"NO!" The cry seemed to be ripped out of Peter, a painful sound and if she asked him now about it he would deny it. But as she scrabbled for a hold his dismay echoed around them and rang in her ears.

The pirates dropped to their knees and stretched out their hands but she was too far away from them. Wendy stopped slipping, fingers curled for dear life into a crack and she stayed still, sweat dripping down her face.

"Peter," she whispered, more afraid then she had been in her life.

"It's okay, it's okay. Look to your right. Can you see the lip of stone? Try to reach it, it's just over there," his voice was rough.

Wendy looked and sure enough there was a rock protruding big enough for her to sit on. Looking up at the pirates, who looked shocked, she forced herself to let go of her death grip and reach for another hand hold. It was one the most difficult things she had ever done, that tiny movement but once she had done it she scrabbled for the rest until she pulled herself up the lip, teeth clenched in effort and rolled onto her back.

The pirates gave a detectable sigh of relief and looked at Peter. He was staring at Wendy, breathing fast and when he flicked his gaze back to the pirates. Some of them ran back in fear. The others seemed hypnotised by his quiet rage. Jaw clenching and teeth grinding he stared and stared at them and she could almost see the whirling mad thoughts that were going through his head. Finally he smiled and his eyes were like two grey stones. It was dreadful. He pushed a hand into his pocket and bent down, placing something by his feet. At first Wendy mistook the pile at his feet for jewels for they were many beautiful colours but as she squinted she could see that they were actually beans. Peter flourished a hand at them and stood back.

"These beans will take you to any world you think of and they're all yours, if you can get across. All you have to do is voice a deep, dark secret." He grinned at them and they shuffled in confusion.

"It's a trick," one of them said and a few 'ayes' went up in agreement.

"No tricks. I actually agree with you, I'd like nothing more then to see you all gone. I never want to see your faces in Neverland again." he said through his teeth before smiling. "And you did manage to sneak into my camp and kidnap Wendy under my nose. Not many people could do that," he admitted but there was no respect for their aptitude.

"A secret you say?"

"Yes, one that you have never voiced aloud. The deeper the better."

One of the pirates stepped forward, eyeing the beans greedily and then spoke. "When I was a boy I tried to drown my sister."

A narrow bridge of rock suddenly appeared, stopping a quarter distance over the drop. The pirate took a step forward gingerly and when he was sure it wasn't going to crumble under him he ran forward. And the other pirates followed suit, all squeezed onto the narrow bridge. They looked at each other, waiting for the next person to speak and started to argue when no one did.

"Come on! Someone must have something to say!"

"Well why don't you bare your soul this time!" the pirate who shared his secret said. Wendy knew he would not speak again, shame was burning on his face.

"Oh for goodness sake. I kept a mermaid in the bowels of the ship," one of them said and more of the bridge appeared.

"You jammy begger!" one of them said and they laughed and made crude jokes. Wendy looked away and at Peter. He was staring at them, the corner of his mouth curled and his eyes shone. He seemed to be anticipating something. Wendy looked back and the pirates were arguing, shouting at the other to share a secret until someone did. Only it wasn't a secret.

"I'm the king of Wonderland!" one of them said, trying to ease the tension but the lie had disastrous consequences. The bridge that lead to their side of the cave fell away and now they were standing on a small, narrow island.

"Look what you've done!" they shouted

"I didn't say anything!" The liar said and more of the rock fell and Wendy gasped.

"Stop!" but they did not hear her.

They shouted at each other and the noise was deafening. As one of them shoved another a man suddenly appeared at the other side of the cave. He was dressed in black and had a hook for a hand.

"What the bloody hell is going on!?"

"Ah, Hook, there you are!" Peter said happily, waving at him from the other side of the cave. "It seems that you have a mutiny on your hands. Eh, hand," he corrected but the pirate ignored him.

"What are you dunderheads doing here?" he shouted and some of them who were not fighting turned. The man in the red hat stared at him, clearly frightened.

"I didn't want to come Captain, they forced me!" More of the rock fell away and Wendy got to her knees, heart in her throat.

"They – they have to say a secret, something true and they'll get across. If they lie..." Wendy fell silent and Hook blinked at her, seeing her for the first time.

"What madness is this? Listen to me you idiots!" he shouted but the ones who were the most angry sneered at him.

"We're done listening to you! Look where it got us! Adventures you promised, riches and eternal youth but you brought us to hell! No man can endure this place forever and I won't any longer!"

"I understand if you're upset, believe me I do but right now you have to work together," he said with forced calm but the pirate shook his head.

"Sorry but I'm done taking orders from you. We want to go home!"

"AYE!" they shouted and to Wendy's horror huge swathes of rock fell away and this time the pirates were not so lucky. The ones nearer the edge stumbled and they grabbed the nearest person next to them but it did no good. With a shriek they fell and took others with them. Bleeding fingers over her mouth Wendy watched, unable to look away. Their screams of terror echoed around the cave and so did sickening thuds as they hit the bottom.

"Sweetheart, don't look down," someone said repeatedly until Wendy looked up at Hook. He was smiling at her but his eyes were blazing.

"They – they fell," tears ran down her face and she blinked. "Is - is this pretend? Are they pretending?" She looked at Peter who stared at her grimly before shaking his head. Wendy gulped, her throat tight with contained sobs and looked across at the now tiny spit of rock.

Only two pirates remained: Smee and Bill Jukes. He was bald and covered in tattoos, an intimidating sight but at that moment he was quivering. Smee was sobbing, red hat over his face and even though he had helped kidnap her Wendy's heart went out to him.

"It – it's all right, don't be frightened," she said gutturally and Peter stared at her incredulously.

"You owe them no comfort, they would both happily see you dead."

"I will not see another person die! I don't care what they've done!" she cried out in distress.

"I would never kill a girl. In fact I've never killed anyone in my life," Smee said, whipping his hat down and to his amazement the rocks reformed, leading half the way back to the pirate captain.

"That's it. Go on Bill," Hook encouraged and the bald man nodded. He voiced a secret and then Smee until they had reached the other side safely. Smee wasted no time and ran from the cave, his sobs echoing around while Jukes stood by Hook's side. He lowered his head and asked for forgiveness.

"We just wanted to get away from this forsaken place. All these years Killain," he said wearily and the captain nodded before motioning for Jukes to leave. Finally it was just Hook, Peter and Wendy left in the cave.

"All right sweetheart?"

"Yes, I – I think so."

"What's your name?"

"Wendy, Wendy Darling," she said shakily and he bowed to her before looking at Peter.

"I presume you need no help in rescuing this lady?" Peter shook his head and Hook pointed down. "I had no part in this," he said flatly.

"I know. However due to their traitorous act it looks like you'll be needing a new crew Killian." He picked up a handful of beans and showed them to Hook. "As a show of no ill will I'll help you to restock. We'll go through the finer details later, if you'll excuse us?" he asked, looking at Wendy who had finally gotten to her feet.

Hook looked between them in uncertainty before withdrawing. "This is no place for an innocent Pan."

Peter ignored him and bent down, eyes only on her. Now alone Wendy gazed desperately at Peter who smiled softly at her.

"And you were having such a nice day," he sighed. "I'm sorry Wendy, I didn't know you were in danger."

"It's not your fault. Do – do I have to voice a secret?"

"Yes and I'm afraid I have to hear. A secret remains that if there's no one else to hear it."

Wendy nodded and dried her tear streaked face with her ripped gown. There were scratches all over her body and her fingers and toes throbbed painfully. She was bone tired and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to go home. She stared at Peter.

"I'm frightened of this place," she whispered and rocks formed before her but not enough to reach him. She licked her lips and stepped forward, arms crossed over her chest tightly.

"And another," he urged gently, seemingly not angry at her confession.

"I – I...I want to go home," she said in a tiny voice and more rocks appeared but only a little. She could have to voice something big for the bridge to arc across to Peter. She inhaled, fists clenching and spoke. "I want to grow up, I want be a mother and have a husband. I – I think, I think I feel..." she trailed off, words caught in her throat and she found it impossible to voice her greatest secret and desire. "I'm sorry, I can't. I don't have anything else but that and I can't say it!"

Seeing that she could not share something that made her so vulnerable Peter suddenly stood forward. "Then I'll come to you."

"Can't you just make it appear for you?"

"It doesn't work that way, not even for me," he balled his fists up and pursed his lips, staring at her intently. It was the same look he had given her when he told her about magic dying. Wendy could see that he was finding it difficult and she shook her head, relenting.

"You don't have to, it's all -"

"I ran away from home," he said suddenly and rocks appeared before his feet. He took a step and stopped. He would need to voice at least two more secrets before he reached her. "I'm...I'm scared of being alone," he gritted out before finally uttering his last secret in a rush "and I don't want you to leave me."

The rocks met and Wendy ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and he held her tightly.

* * *

She shook, the needle vibrating over the button and he folded his hands over hers to make her stop. They were sitting on the bed in her house, candles burning warmly but the horror of the cave was still fresh in her mind. Her night gown was a ruin but she tried to mend it, to take her mind off what happened but it did not help.

"You'll prick yourself," he said and she snorted softly and stretchered out her arms. Long, angry red scratches covered her skin

"I don't think it would go amiss if I did," she sighed and lowered her knitting onto her lap. He sat beside her and she leaned against him comfortably. A day ago she would not have dared done such a thing but a shared death experience can change a person. She felt as close to him as she did to anyone.

_He does not want me to leave_, she thought with a dazed happiness and could not stop thinking about it. _He cares for me too._

"If only I had had some pixie dust with me, I could have flown to you. My Shadow was away too," he grumbled and she looked up at him curiously as he fumbled with something around his neck. It was an empty phial attached to a cord. Wendy touched it gently.

"Is it all gone?"

"Tink had some but not a lot. There's fairy dust, that's easy to get, but pixie dust is far more powerful," he said, gaze unfocused.

"Could it make me fly?" she asked curiously and he smiled, nodding.

"Of course. Just think lovely thoughts and whoosh," he hovered a hand in the air before lowering it. He brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead and she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"If I could fly I don't think I'd ever come down...Peter?"

"Yes?"

"How long have you been here?"

He shifted against her before answering. "Awhile, I suppose. I can't really remember any more."

"A long time?"

"...Yes."

"But at one time you were lonely?" she remembered his confession. He was scared of being alone but he could only fear it if he had experienced it before. When he did not reply she turned to him. He gazed at her curiously, a little confused.

"You have this strange gift of pulling secrets out of me and I don't mind."

"Mother always says it's a good idea to get things off your chest," she advised and he smiled strangely.

"I wouldn't know...Before the boys were here, before the pirates and Tink there was just me," he explained quietly. "It was like that for a very long time."

"I'm sorry, you must have been very lonely," she looked at him sadly, pained for him. She could only imagine what it would be like if she was completely alone on a strange island with no one to talk to. It would drive her mad.

"At first it was exhilarating, I had the place to myself and no one to tell me what to do. I was free. But yes it was lonely but I wasn't completely without company, which staved off the mad boredom," he said, widening his eyes in mock insanity. Again she had the feeling he could read her mind.

"How?"

"I could visit children in their dreams and bring them here to play but they would leave once they awoke. So I found a way to bring them here for real."

"Your shadow?"

"Exactly!"

"Is it really your shadow?"

"In a Jungian sort of way..."

"What?"

"Nothing," he smirked for a moment and then played with a candle flame. "It's a part of me and nothing can hurt it. Well, almost nothing," he snuffed out the light and turned to her.

"I do hope that my brothers can come soon."

"Of course they can, Bae to," he said graciously and Wendy hugged him. She exhaled, fingers absent-mindedly playing with his hair, and felt contentment for the first time since entering the cave. She drew back a little and gazed at him tenderly, hands on his shoulders and her eyes lowered to his lips and up again. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to pour all her feelings and unsaid words into it and he would know what her secret was. Peter blinked at her, starting to smile when she leaned closer and he leaned back, confused.

"Wendy?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. I eh, I...excuse me!" she said, suddenly in a complete fluster and stood, disposing her knitting on his lap. Face red as the sun she dashed from the house, leaving him to stare after her in bemusement. He picked up a thimble and slipped it onto his finger with a knowing smile.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_Again I'm so grateful for the amazing response, thank you! I hope you liked this chapter. Peter and Wendy growing closer while she sees the real danger of Neverland. Also I had to have Peter mention Jung as a shout out to people who call him Sigmund Pan lol ;)_

_Next chapter things get real..._


	7. Chapter 7

_~present~_

In the weeks that followed Wendy kept to herself and at first she had been relieved. Peter was leaving her in peace, she did not feel him dogging her steps or anyone else's for that matter. And that started to prove a problem. She did not want to admit that he was right but as the weeks lengthened and no one – not even Tink – spoke to her she started to become dreadfully lonely. She had tried to see the solitude as something productive: she had found a journal, an unlikely gift from Peter and wrote everything she could remember about her life in it. She wrote about her mother and father, how he had been the lucky suitor that won her mother's hand. She transcribed her earliest memory – _picking a flower_ – to her least favourite lesson – _mathematics_ - at Miss Fulsome's kindergarten school. At first her handwriting had been neat and readable but as the days passed she tried in vain to remember things that should be easy – _the colour of mother's eyes_ – her handwriting became reduced to desperate scribbles.

She was forgetting. Sometimes in the jungle she could hear scraps of Peter's music and under a strange influence she would walk towards it as if in a dream before snapping out of the enchantment. This happened more then she would like to admit and she knew that if she stayed any longer there would come a time where she would drift straight into his camp and dance around the fire like the other lost children.

Lonely and scared of losing her grip on what was real Wendy picked the day of her escape and thought of nothing else.

* * *

The clouds above were low, dark and heavy and stretched to the horizon where a line of pale light shone. An unnatural greenish light illuminated everything, giving the already otherworldly place an added degree of strangeness. It would be a terrible storm, the likes of which she had never experienced and it made her want to escape even more. Walking to the shore she stared at the smooth placid water, not a lick of air ruffled the surface and the humidity was unbearable, making her hair curl and bead with sweat. If this was to be her last view of the Neverland sea then it was fitting. She had wanted to say goodbye to Tinkerbell but the fairy was not at home. Wendy hoped that she was safe and that Peter had not punished her.

As a low, distant rumble sounded Wendy adjusted the leather satchel she had found over her shoulder carefully. It contained something precious and if she got caught in the rain than her efforts would be for nothing. Hook had told her to be smart and so she would be, to the best of her ability. She knew that Peter was aware of everything on the island, that he was connected to it. He knew when someone sneezed or said a bad word against him, nothing escaped his notice. He would know when someone was plotting against him and so she could not pretend that her movements were going unnoticed. In fact she counted on it. She would use his power against him, as reckless as that was.

As Wendy moved towards the shoreline she saw something dark break the surface of the water, sending ripples out from the figure who was waving to her. Frowning she walked over the rocks to the edge of the lagoon as the mermaid swam up. For someone, who she believed had once tried to eat her, the mermaid was proving to be one of her only allies.

"Is there a haven you can go to?" Wendy asked and the mermaid looked up.

"What are winds and rain to us in the deep?" she said simply and Wendy nodded. The life of mermaids was strange and mysterious and she knew not a tenth of what went on. But she did know some and while mermaids saw humans as something to mock and play with they hated Peter. Mermaids can swim between realms but the ones native to Neverland were trapped. He used them like a king would use spikes in a moat around his castle.

"I'm trying to get home, to stop him if I can," she said quietly and the mermaid sunk a little lower in the water. She put a hand over her mouth but Wendy shrugged.

"It does not matter if he knows, I do not care. I just wish I could help you, help everyone trapped."

"Then take this, it will help," she lifted a shell out of the water, hand cupped over the opening and handed it carefully to Wendy. The white shell was filled with a dark liquid and it sloshed over her fingers, staining them.

"Ink...?"

"It will stop him from moving, freeze his magic blood but it won't free us from his net. The only way that can happen is if he and his shadow are brought together like drops of water. That is what the elders say."

Wendy stared at her thoughtfully. She had never seen Peter and his shadow together and the latter had only ever visited her at night. It's aversion to light was something obvious in hindsight. She shifted her bag again.

"I'll try, I promise."

"Good luck Wendy. You hold the fate of many in your hands."

"I know. Goodbye Tiger Lily and thank you!" She stood as the mermaid swam away and then hurried back into the jungle as the wind began to pick up and lightening flickered.

* * *

The Dark Hollow was situated at the very heart of the island and the heart of Neverland was dark and twisted. Coming to the edge of the hollow Wendy stopped, eyes darting to every shadow but Peter was nowhere to be seen. He would have to come for her, if he knew what she intended.

_Unless he's so sure that I'm going to fail that he doesn't even see the worth of coming?_ The thought circled her mind, sapping her resolve. She gripped the bag strap in her hands before pulling it over her head and carefully setting the bag at her feet. On a knee she lifted the shell out, careful not to spill any when someone chuckled behind her.

"You're playing such a funny little game," Peter said happily and she spun around on her knees. He was grinning, rocking on his heels. "I wanted to see how far you would get and I have to say I'm impressed. I never would have thought sweet innocent Wendy would dare venture into this part of the island."

"Well, as you love games so much can you guess what I'm going to do next?" she asked, rising to her feet with the shell clutched in her hands. He smirked and lifted a hand and with a snap of his fingers the shell disappeared. Wendy gasped.

"That mermaid is a nuisance," he said severely but his eyes gleamed giddily. At Wendy's now uncertain expression he pouted. "Don't be glum, it was a brave attempt but I think you should give up now and save some face."

Wendy looked down and stared at her inky fingers. "I just want to go home," she said in a small voice. Her shoulders slumped and Peter came forward and put a hand on her arm.

"I know...but you won't find your way home in there, only a fate worse than death," he said seriously.

Her head shot up. "As if you care. You're a liar, I think everything you've ever told me is a lie. You said that magic is dying but where? Neverland is no different compared to the last time I was here," she said hotly but then realised that wasn't quite true. It was darker and gloomier, the sky reflecting the true nature of the island but Wendy brushed the thought aside. "People get hurt but this all seems a game to you," she gritted out and he frowned, suddenly annoyed.

"A game?! Do you think _this_ is a game?" he snarled and than did something that Wendy could not comprehend at first. He reached into his shirt and pulled out something. Her first thought was that he had pulled a lump of coal out of a vest pocket but then she heard it beating. He had pulled out his own heart.

"Oh my god..." she breathed, shaking and reached towards it but than drew her hand back. The heart was diseased looking and filled not with blood but a swirling blackness. It was horrible yet oddly pitiful.

"I'm dying," he whispered and she looked up at him in horror. "That's why I need magic. This place is not enough any more."

"Why – why?"

"Because people don't believe. In all the worlds belief in magic is dying and unfortunately that directly affects me," he explained and returned his dying heart back. "There, I've literally bared my heart to you and it's not a pretty sight is it? I might not feel like others can but I could have just let you walk in there and never come back. Still think I don't care?"

Wendy gazed at him, not knowing what to believe. Was it true? Was he dying or was it a trick to get her to feel sorry for him? How could someone with such a black heart care for anything?

She shook her head. "No, I don't believe you, it's a trick. If you did care you'd let me go home. Why won't you let me Peter?!" she cried, exasperated.

"Because you're mine!" he shouted and immediately looked like he wished he hadn't. Wendy blinked, lost for words. They stared at each other in a tense, prickly silence until Wendy looked down, unable to stare at his tormented eyes any longer.

Peter suddenly grinned, as if he had not just told her his greatest secret, and pointed down. "I know what's in that bag."

Wendy shrugged, still looking down. "Its just a teacup."

"A teacup with a candle in it. Do you take me for a fool?" He reached down to the bag when Wendy sprung into action. She bent down with him and quickly placed her hands on his face, which made him look up sharply. In that split second where he was taken by surprise Wendy pressed her lips against his and his eyes widened in shock. In the year that she had been at school, in her dreams and daydreams, she had imagined doing this again but for very different reasons. As he sprung back up to his feet she held on, forcing her mouth against his and he stiffened against her.

She pulled back, hands still cupping his face and stared into his eyes. Those eyes that she had so often seen filled with glee or cruelty were now stuck wide with surprise and it was almost satisfying enough to make her crow. She stepped back from his frozen body, plucked the pan pipes off his belt and with an innocent smile she stuck out her tongue. It was black with ink.

"It tastes disgusting but it was worth it to see this. Now, if you'll excuse me," she said tartly and opened up her bag, withdrew the cup and saucer from inside and replaced them with the pipes. Then she slung the bag back over her shoulder. Very carefully she lifted the saucer and glanced at the candle inside the cup. The flame fluttered and she quickly lowered the cover and turned to the entrance of the Hollow. She was lit up with success but the sight of the twisted, blasted trees made her stomach tighten in fear. It was a forbidden place, a place that everyone said was haunted by the damned and she had to go in on the hope that her way home grew inside. She looked at Peter. He could not move or speak but his eyes said enough: he was furious.

"I know you're angry but if what you said is true then I hope this will help you too, if it works," she inhaled and placing the teacup in it's saucer she walked into the Dark Hollow.

* * *

Around the Hollow the air was still but inside an unexplainable wind blew against her, threatening to blow out her candle. She kept her eyes fixed on the tiny flame and believed with all her might that it would carry on burning. And despite the vicious wind it did. A strange red light lit her way through the gloom while above her dark figures swooped but when she looked they were gone.

"Just shadows..." she said and a strange giggle burst from her lips. _Don't go mad. When I get home I'll be as mad as a hatter but not until then!_

Heart pounding she hurried through the trees while darkness increased at her back and she forced herself to look ahead. She felt certain that if she did look back she would be consumed. She came to a slope which lead to a deep hollow and it it's centre was one small bean stalk. Around it beans glittered, more then she had hoped to see.

"Yes!"

She made her way down, teacup shaking in her hands when something suddenly grabbed her and she was flung back. With a scream she hit the floor and her teacup flew out her hands but all thought of it disappeared when she looked up. A teeming cloud of shadows were above her, their eyes gleaming red and she knew that she had failed. As a shadow detached itself and shot down she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the end but nothing happened. Opening her eyes a crack she saw that a shadow was inches from her and her heart lurched. But it was not attacking her, it was protecting her.

"Run," Peter's shadow said and then again louder when she did not move. Wendy got onto her knees, shaking with fear but froze, looking at the floor. There was a bean an arms length away. Wendy flung herself forward, scrabbling for it while the shadows above wavered angrily like tree tops in a storm. She grabbed it, along with the upside down teacup, before she was suddenly lifted into the air and carried away. The shadow was flying her away at top speed, dodging trees and old ruins and Wendy looked down. The teacup was pressed against her chest and with the most fervent and intense wish she turned it up. The flame was almost out but the sight of it produced a surge of relief so great that it seemed to feed it. Now burning bright the shadow struggled away from the light but Wendy held on and to her amazement Peter's shadow was sucked into the flame.

Wendy plummeted to the ground, cutting her knees and skinning her palms, but she was up and running without a concern for the pain. She burst out of the hollow and into a terrible storm. Rain was pouring down, drenching her in seconds and the wind physically tried to push her back. But with relief she saw that Peter was still there. Before he had glared at her with rage but now she had never seen him look so scared.

"I've done it!" she cried but then froze.

In the distance she could hear a great commotion and it was coming closer. The war cry of the Lost Boys echoed through the trees, when it was not drowned out by thunder that now boomed over head. Wendy, covering the the shaking teacup with her hand, came forward and stopped before Peter. He begged her with his eyes, unable to move as Wendy quickly removed her hand and pushed the teacup against his chest, forcing his shadow back.

Peter's eyes almost bugged out of his head as the part of him that he had been separated from for so long finally reattached itself to it's owner. Wendy dropped the cup as Peter's eyes drifted closed and she placed her hand over his chest, scared that the ordeal had killed him but his heart beat against her palm. The Lost Boys were very close now, screaming murder and she shivered because she knew that they were no longer the boys she had come to know but something else. With no time to lose she threw the bean to the ground where a portal appeared under their feet and she and Peter fell through it.

The Lost Boys came to a skidding stop at the edge of the Hollow, shaking their spears and yelling but they were too late. Their leader was gone.

* * *

Jumping into the portal Wendy had only thought of home and nothing else. There was no Peter, there was no Neverland or bloodthirsty boys but London and tea, cobbles and fog, the king and Kensington Gardens. If she had thought of her family she probably would have appeared in Bloomsbury Square but the royal gardens was the thought that brought her home and so she unfortunately appeared directly in the centre of the Serpentine.

The shock of suddenly being under water almost made her gasp in the murky water, instead it had the opposite effect and great bubbles of air escaped her. Icy cold light was above and she swam towards it, kicking hard as her lungs burned before she reached the surface. Wings beat around her freezing face and geese honked and it was the most beautiful sound Wendy had ever heard.

"I say, is that a woman in there?"

"Goodness!"

"It's a bit cold to go swimming, isn't it mummy?"

Wendy turned and saw that a group of bystanders were looking at her with the utmost shock. She swam towards them, beaming like a mad woman as the men came forward, hands outstretched before someone gasped and pointed.

"A body!"

Wendy turned and saw with horror that Peter was floating face down in the water.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_Dundunduh!_


	8. Chapter 8

_~past~_

Blood rushing to her face Wendy ran from her house, embarrassment making her avoid eye contact with the boys who watched her pass with mild interest. She had tried to kiss him like a wanton thing! She could only imagine how shocked, and jealous, her friends at school would be. She had had a crush before, on the boy who brought the milk, but that had been nothing to what she felt now.

_What must he think of me? _She worried to herself, finding a tree stump to sit on away from the camp. _He looked so surprised and confused, surely he knows what a kiss is? _It would be sweet to think that he was that innocent but she knew better. The only reasonable explanation was that he did not feel that way about her. It was a crushing realisation. After the horror that she had witnessed in the cave and now this recent heartbreak Wendy cried quietly to herself and felt that if she let herself think on what had happened something in her would break and something awful would come flooding out. She inhaled wetly and looked down at herself. She was in a shocking state.

_I can't go home like this_, she thought and surprised herself. She had not really thought about going home seriously, it had just been a silent need that crawled up on her at night but now that need was an ache. She thought of her parents and brothers, who must surely be sick with worry now, and felt even more awful. As she tried not to break into sobs again she heard something and realised that she had been hearing it all along. Someone else was crying. Drying her tears Wendy stood and looked through the dark trees.

"Are you all right?"

Someone inhaled, trying to be quiet and Wendy followed the sound before something made her look down. A boy, about her age, was sitting under a banana plant and weeping. Wendy got to her knees and the boy shuffled away, not wanting her to see his tears.

"Go away," he gasped but she remained, staring at him kindly.

"What's wrong?"

He shrugged and toed the dirt with his boot while he gave her quick furtive glances. He looked unsure but as Wendy continued to gaze at him in pity he turned and spoke under his breath.

"Am I dreaming?"

"Oh, no I don't think so. Why?"

"Because...because sometimes I think that when I go to sleep I'll wake up and be back at home. Only – only I'm always here," he said wretchedly and Wendy frowned.

"Have you spoken to the others?"

The boy shook his head violently. "They would laugh. I – I miss my mother but sometimes I don't miss her at all," he admitted miserably and Wendy felt a pang. She felt like that sometimes.

"I thought that was you blubbering Slightly."

Wendy turned to see Felix staring down at them. He was grinning, eyes narrowed and Slightly jumped to his feet and with one angry look at Wendy he ran pass them. Left with Felix, Wendy gazed at him curiously.

"He was upset. He thinks that all this is a dream," she explained and Felix chuckled.

"I'd be careful trusting anything Slightly says. He has a flare for the dramatic."

"You think he was lying?" Wendy very much doubted it, those tears had been real.

Felix shrugged and turned towards the camp, waiting for Wendy to follow him. "I think he's homesick, it happens, but I can tell you one thing for sure: it doesn't last."

Well that she knew to be true but even so the boy's distress played on her mind and as she sat outside her house - Peter was gone, now playing his pipe beside the fire - she watched the boys dance with a feeling of uncertainty. She had seen them dance more times then she could count but this time their frenzied movements made her feel uncomfortable and she rose and left them to dance to a tune that she could not hear.

* * *

She wandered aimlessly along the shore, eyeing the ship on the horizon. As she did she saw a mermaid surface some distance from her and Wendy was sure it was the one that had tried to kill her. She left quickly and headed back into the jungle and not seeing where she was going she tripped over someone who was picking berries.

"Oi! Watch it!"

"Sorry!"

Tink stared at her angrily but then her face fell when saw Wendy. She crawled over to her and touched her scratched arms gently.

"What happened to you?"

Wendy opened her mouth to tell her but instead a sob escaped and for the third time that day she cried. Growing annoyed at herself for her lack of control she let Tink hug her as she hiccuped through what had happened since that morning (though she left out what had happened with Peter in the house, wanting to save some dignity.)

"You're not having a good day, are you?" Tink said and helped her up to her feet. She led her towards her tree house but Wendy was too tired to make the climb. "Wait there, I've got just the thing," the fairy said and disappeared upwards. While she was gone Wendy forced herself to get a grip over her emotions and when Tink came back down her face was dry.

"What have you got there?" Wendy asked as Tink knelt down beside her. In her hand something glowed green and she showed Wendy a small phial.

"Pixie dust?" Wendy was amazed but then her eyebrows shot up when Tink pulled the stopper out and sprinkled some over her arms.

"It will heal you."

It did more then that. As soon as the sparkling dust touched her it healed not just her bruised and scratched skin but also her night gown. When she was finished even her hair looked perfect. Standing, Wendy turned around in a circle, staring down at herself in delight.

"Thank you!" she said and clasped the fairy's hands, who looked a little uncomfortable with the praise. Wendy sat down next to her, wondering. "I hope you didn't waste it on me?"

"Don't be silly. There isn't much call for it in Neverland..." she said, gaze losing focus before she eyed Wendy thoughtfully. "What were you doing out here anyway?"

"I needed to get away from the camp for a little while," she said, looking furtive. Tink raised a brow and Wendy was helpless against it. She told her haltingly about what had happened with Peter in her house and then about the crying boy she found. Tink listened sympathetically, though she did look strangely perturbed when Wendy confessed her feelings for Peter but nodded knowingly at the mention of the crying she had heard more than once.

"I'm afraid it happens. When he brings a group I dread it, all that wailing and I never get a wink of sleep!"

Wendy stared into the darkness with a frown. "It's not quite right here, is it?"

"No, it's not," Tink confessed and they sat in a heavy silence, their thoughts occupied. Finally after staring at Wendy's glum face Tink took pity on her and did something that she had not done in many years.

"I'll grant you a wish, to cheer you up," she said suddenly and Wendy straightened.

"What?" Wendy stared at the pixie dust that was being offered to her in awe.

"It's yours. After today I think you could use it. Go on, you can do what you like with it," Tink encouraged and Wendy took the dust off her. Her mouth flickered into a hopeful smile.

"What sort of things can I wish for?"

"Lots! You could fly, breathe under water, find your True Love, change your appear -"

"My True Love?" Wendy's eyes gleamed. She had a romantic heart.

Tinkerbell hesitated, reluctant to say any more when she nodded. "Yes, the dust can find your True Love and that's a fact!" she said hotly, though Wendy did not know why. Seeing the dawning look of hope and anticipation on Wendy's face Tink leaned forward and gripped her hand that held the dust. "If I do this you must promise me one thing: that whoever this person is you'll go up to them and at the very least introduce yourself!"

"I promise!" Wendy said and Tink sat up, looking grimly determined.

"You have to realise the importance of this Wendy. True Love doesn't happen everyday you know. Though in some worlds it's more frequent then others, not that it seems to make a difference," she muttered darkly.

Practically quivering with excitement, the days horrors banished, Wendy ignored Tink's sullen words and handed the pixie dust back. "How will you find him?"

"I'll know. He'll be someone from your world, of course," she said lightly as she took a pinch of dust and turned to Wendy, who suddenly looked crestfallen.

"Do you know if anyone from the camp is from my world?"

"Only two that I know of: Felix and Slightly but there might be more," she explained and Wendy felt a flare of disappointment. Even then she was thinking of Peter but she forced herself to think positively. Like Tink said this was True Love and not everyone got a chance at that.

Tink produced a blank piece of parchment and laid it on the ground. As Wendy watched she sprinkled the dust onto it where shapes began to form. It made no sense to her but Tinkerbell hummed, titling her head.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

"They're here," she said and straightened, taking the paper with her. Wendy crowded around her, looking at the paper but the symbols were still unreadable.

"Who is?" she demanded and Tink turned and lifted her hand to Wendy's face. She blew a cloud of pixie dust into Wendy's eyes, making her blink and cough. When her vision cleared Wendy saw with surprise that she could now read what was on the parchment. It was a map.

"Take this and find him. I don't know who it is, I don't want to know. All I want is for you to be brave and to prove to me that True Love is not something that you run away from!"

"I won't, I promise," Wendy said with conviction and looked down at the map. He was in the camp and although she had been given two possibilities of who it may be she still yearned for another. Thanking her profusely Wendy left Tink and made her way to the camp, staring down at the map as she went. The closer she got the green dot that was her True Love throbbed brighter until she found it hard to look at. She was nervous, very nervous, like a new bride on her wedding day, fear and joy all mixed together. Stomach in knots and heart galloping she came to the edge of the camp and stopped.

The Lost Boys were sitting around the fire, talking and eating and she searched through them swiftly. When her eyes fell on Slightly she felt a stab of relief when he looked like the same old grubby boy as before. He was not her love but, according to Tink, that only left Felix. Until now she had never considered the tall boy in such a way, he seemed too obtuse and aloof. Even now he was sitting apart from the group, whittling a spear. Wendy's heart stopped when a soft glow seemed to bathe him, making a silhouette of his figure and Wendy was disappointed and confused. She felt no different, there was no clash of lighting or even something softer.

_But I made a promise_, Wendy reminded herself and with a heavy resolve she walked through the camp towards him. When she was a foot away she stopped and he looked up at her and gave his sardonic smile in greeting. She smiled back weakly, about to say good evening when something blinded her. It was like the sun had just come out from behind a cloud and shone directly into her eyes and Wendy squeezed them shut and rubbed the pixie dust out.

"Sleepy?"

She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice and a felt a cacophony of emotions overwhelm her. Felix had not been glowing, rather he had been like the moon that shines from the sun's borrowed rays, just because he happened to be beside him.

"Peter," she breathed happily, heart soaring and he smiled up at her. "Can...can I speak to you in private? I – I have something to tell you. It's a very sweet subject," she stammered and Peter stood, cocking an eyebrow at Felix as they walked towards her house for the second time that day. Once alone Wendy was overcome with shyness, unable to look at his quizzical eyes. She rung the magic map in her hands and he asked if she was feeling well.

"I'm fine, it's nothing!"

"Then why do you look so -"

"I love you!" Unable to take it any more Wendy cut him off, blurting out her secret. Peter blinked, mouth still open before he closed it. He frowned lightly and cocked his head, as if he misheard.

"I'm sorry?"

"I love you, completely," she admitted softly, heart racing and moved to him. She had never felt so vulnerable or so quite alive and as she gazed at him something in her came to life. _This is what it feels like to be a woman_, she thought as she rose to her toes and then gently brushed her lips against his. He remained unresponsive, shocked into stillness but then she felt him relax against her and for one wonderful moment he kissed her back with a gentle pressure.

Neither were outside so they did not see the change in the sky but the boys did. They looked up as a warm light bathed them and stared in befuddled amazement at the sunset sky. But just as it appeared the clouds gathered again, like the clear sky had never been. In the little house Peter pushed Wendy away with a grunt.

"What was that?!"

Brimming with love and elation Wendy could hardly concentrate but she too had felt something pulse through her. Whatever it was had been toe curling but it seemed to produce the opposite reaction in Peter, who looked deeply startled.

"It's all right. Tink, she did a spell."

"What spell?" he demanded, starting to get angry and defensive.

"A spell that would lead me to my True Love," she whispered and then smiled gently at him. "It lead me to you Peter."

He stared at her, face slack and then did something she never conceived possible. He started laughing at her.

"Why are you doing that?" she asked, beginning to shake and her elation sapped away like it was nothing.

"I'm sorry, but that's just ridiculous," he explained, trying to stop smiling but his lips kept twitching. She could not look away, like it was something perverse.

"W - why?"

"Because I don't love you," he said as carelessly as someone saying they did not like another's scarf or shoes. It was mind-numbing in it's lack of regard.

Wendy stared at his face, unable to take it in. Not a minute ago she had been more happy then she had ever been in her life but now she was rocked with devastation. She could not comprehend his flippancy, his seeming nonchalance. It was like there was another person in front of her.

"I...I don't understand, how can you be so..." she trailed off, lost for words when he gave a wincing smile.

"I'm sorry. I think you've been labouring under a delusion. I know you want to be a mother one day, to get married...to have a husband. That's not me, it can't be me," he shrugged, speaking more gently. "I can't be that person because I'll never grow up. I'm sorry if I've hurt your feelings -"

"No you're not! You laughed! You're - you're heartless!" she cried out with an anger she did not know she possessed. Peter snorted softly, cocking an eyebrow like she had told a joke and unable to take the mockery any more Wendy ran from the house again, burning with humiliation and sadness and disappeared into the jungle.

* * *

She ran until she could not stand and collapsed on some rocks overlooking the sea. She was bent over, fingers clawing at the stone as something inside her grew, threatening to crush her. She had seen men fall to their deaths, rebuffed and had been offered True Love only to have it cruelly rejected and it was all too much. She could not cry, that pressure in her chest seemingly blocking off the ability to. She felt like she was on the edge of imploding and her heart was beating painfully fast. Shaking uncontrollably and gasping for breath she sat up and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, scared at what was happening to her.

_Am I dying?_ She thought in confusion, feeling like her heart was about to burst. She had never had a heart attack but she guessed it probably would not feel much different. She inhaled great breaths, calming herself and after an unidentifiable length of time her heart started to slow and she found it easier to breathe. She fell flat onto her back, wiping sweat from her face and winced as something dug into the back of her head. It was the comb that Peter had given her and she pulled it out of her hair. The pearls gleamed dully and some of the teeth were broken but it was still beautiful. With a vindictive stab she drew her hand back and threw the comb into the sea with a curse. She did not expect a hand to reach out of the water and catch it.

Startled she watched as a mermaid appeared and swam towards her. It was the one who had tried to drown her and before that night she would have got up and ran but she was too drained to do anything but stare. The mermaid slipped the comb back into her hair like it had never been taken and gazed at Wendy curiously.

"Girl, why are you crying?"

"I – I am not," she replied and it was true. She could not cry, it would take too much energy and she was exhausted. Why the mermaid was asking her such a question she could not fathom.

"But you are upset?"

Wendy nodded after a pause and the mermaid swam closer until she was resting her arms on the rock. She was young, around her own age and beautiful. Black hair floated around her shoulders and equally black eyes regarded her quizzically, not a hint of menace about her.

"You – you're not going to eat me, are you?" she asked in a hollow voice and the mermaid looked shocked before laughing.

"No! What a strange question!"

Wendy felt a little mortified. "Oh, its just that I heard that you did that..."

"I'm sure there are some who are desperate and wretched enough to do such a thing, even among your people no?"

"I suppose so..." Wendy admitted and then wondered how on earth they had progressed onto the subject of cannibalism so quickly. It made her laugh involuntarily and the mermaid smiled. "I'm sorry, I think today has driven me mad."

"What is your name?"

"Wendy."

"I am Tiger Lily," she said and then looked confused when Wendy offered a hand. She took it hesitatingly and then smiled when Wendy shook it. They suddenly both flinched when thunder rumbled above them and the mermaid sunk low in the water.

"I think it may rain," Wendy said, looking up and when she looked down Tiger Lily was staring at her intensely.

"You should not be here. I tried to separate you from him, I was foolish but I knew that I had to try."

"What do you mean?"

"I was not trying to kill you the first time we met, I was trying to save you."

"From who?" But she knew and it made her chest squeeze with pain.

"Pan. He looks like a boy but he is not. He's the oldest thing in Neverland, even older than the elders of my people and we live a long time. He's seeped into the sand of this place, into the roots and the waters and now we can not leave. We once had the ability, moons and moons ago, to swim to other realms but he has cursed us."

Wendy listened to her tale with a rising dread as all the precious memories, dreams and deeply ingrained love she felt for Peter started to become tainted with the truth. She wanted to weep and scream at the loss but as she listened something sharp and cold cut right through those soft, bright emotions, like a blade stuck into a pin cushion. Mind whirling with the darkened truth she walked back to the camp and felt like something in her was now gone forever and could never come back. She had fallen in love with a monster and in exchange he had taken her innocence.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_Poor Wendy needs a hug and some therapy. Next part up tomorrow, hopefully. Again thanks so much for your reviews and follows!_


	9. Chapter 9

**_note:_**

_Just so we're clear I'm completely ignoring that revelation about Peter on the show. Because it's utterly ridiculous and NOPE. So from this point on the story is AU. I hope those who need to will bleach and scrub their brains here because while it's creepy it's not that damn creepy._

_Thank you, please enjoy reading and keep this AU ship afloat._

* * *

_~present~_

Wendy blinked her eyes open and was deeply disorientated. It was dark and she did not know where she was but when she heard a child's muffled crying she shot up in the bed. She was in some kind of ward and around her children slept. It was not the cries of the boys trapped on the island but those of the sick. It came back to her now, escaping from Neverland, ending up in the lake and then dragging Peter out of the water. After that she must have fainted. Wendy pulled the cover back when a young nurse came over to her, shaking her head.

"Back into bed with you, go on," she ordered and Wendy sat back, feeling how odd it was to suddenly take orders after so long without rules. Truth be told she wasn't sure if she could even get to her feet.

"Where am I?"

"Great Ormond Street Hospital. The doctor said you had a fainting spell and you're exhausted. Can you tell me your name?" The nurse was a Londoner and not much older then herself.

"Wendy Darling," she answered, preoccupied. She squinted at the children in the other beds nervously. "Where's Peter?"

"Who?"

"Peter Pan, the boy in the lake!" she almost shouted and fisted the covers around her.

"Oh, him," she said and sounded less then impressed.

"Is – is he alive?" Despite everything that he had done to her her heart still raced with worry.

"Yes, he's resting now. What a palaver he caused!" she said quietly and sat on the end of the bed. Wendy didn't like the sound of that.

"What do you mean? Where is he?"

"Well he was out cold until they brought him here. Me and Edith were tucking him in over there when he woke up," she said and Wendy looked to where she was pointing. There was an empty bed, looking no worse for wear but above it the window was shattered. "As soon as he saw where he was he shot out of the bed like a whippet and made a run for it. But he was in no fit state for that and we tried to put him back into bed," she said, mouth thinning.

"What happened?"

"He fought us like a bloody demon is what happened!" the nurse said and then looked around to make sure she hadn't been heard. She carried on in a whisper. "He pushed us over, I don't know how he managed it, and when the doctor tried to pin him down he picked up a tea tray and whacked him round the head with it!" at this she looked bemused.

Wendy closed her eyes, imagining it all clearly. She would rather focus on his misdeeds then the relief that was running through her. "Where is he?"

"Well after he broke the window he went white as a sheet and fainted. He's in the secure room now, sleeping. Looks as sweet as an angel now but you have to be careful with feral children," she nodded to herself and then looked at Wendy curiously. "They say you saved his life?"

"I – I had to," she faltered, the nurse mistaking her hesitance for humility. She patted Wendy on the shoulder and suddenly the full implication of the truth fell on her and she started to cry.

"What's the matter poppet?"

"I'm home!" she sobbed happily and the nurse smiled at her.

"That's not what most of the children say here! Where do you live?"

Wendy told her shakily and before the nurse left she promised that word would be sent to her parents in the morning. Wendy sat back, hardly daring to believe that she would be seeing her family come morning but she could not lie still. Constantly her thoughts turned to Peter, who was somewhere nearby. She could not rest, not while he was there. Making sure that the nurse did not see her she tip toed out of the ward and searched, leaning on walls as she went. She was incredibly tired but she kept moving, peaking into rooms until she came to one that held only a single bed, shielded by a curtain.

Holding her breath she walked around it until she stood at the end of the bed and stared down at Peter as he slept. His wrists were shackled to the bed frame and that was the only thing that seemed expected, everything else she saw was not. Someone had undressed him and put him into a pair of stripped pyjamas and the effect was utterly bizarre. She almost felt offended on his behalf. Here was Peter Pan, feared ruler of Neverland reduced to a bound feral child in a hospital for sick children. Maybe it wasn't so bizarre, maybe he fit into this place better than anyone else. She moved to his side, gazing on his sickly pale face when his eyes snapped opened.

"Wendy!" he said horsely and tried to spring at her but the cuffs stopped him. He strained against them, panting until he fell back into the bed. Wendy had sprung back to the wall, breathing hard but she moved forward, sure that he could not touch her. She noted his red rimmed eyes, the dark circles around them and then put a hand to his clammy forehead.

"You look sick," she whispered and he snorted, shaking her hand off.

"I'm not sick, I'm dying!"

Before she had not believed him but now, staring at his flushed face, she did. She did not feel a flood of relief or even vindication, only a weary sadness. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity! Do you have any idea what you've done? Bringing me to this place?" He was speaking through his teeth, as if in pain. "You should never have reattached my shadow!"

"I – I thought - I hoped that it would help you," she mumbled, unable to look away from his furious face as he laughed.

"Help me! What? Did you think that I would magically start to love you? That I would grow up?" he sneered at her but he shook, blood disappearing from his face. Wendy shook her head.

"No, I don't know...don't you feel different?" she asked gingerly and he laughed again but there was a flash of fear in his eyes.

"Yes, I'm dying at a quicker rate then I should be. Oh Wendy bird, you have no idea, do you? To live I must always have a connection to Neverland, so either myself or my shadow must always be there. But you've severed the connection," he explained weakly and Wendy looked down.

"Maybe...maybe they can treat you here Peter?"

"No, this is a land without magic, they can't do anything for me," he stared at her, breathing raggedly and the fear and hate seemed to radiate off him like waves. "If I don't return I'm dead. You've killed me."

Wendy, deeply conflicted, sat on the edge of the bed. She did not know what way to turn. To find a way to return him to Neverland would save his life but entrap the people there but if she left him here he would die. She stared out of the window at the moonlit sky and slowly shook her head. "I had weeks to think when I was alone in the cave. I suppose I convinced myself you were cursed and that I could save you."

"I am cursed," he muttered tiredly and she looked down as he glared at her. The look had no power in it and he began gazing at her, almost lingeringly. "I didn't ask you to love me."

"And neither did I," she whispered and tilted her head at him thoughtfully. "I know that you're not the person I thought you were...but then I think there's someone else under that too."

"I'm not a Russian Doll, you're not going to reveal some little boy who wants to be saved. I'm - I'm not going to change," he gritted, chest heaving. He was having trouble breathing. Wendy bent down and undid the top bottom of his shirt and let her hand rest on his chest lightly. His heart was racing.

"But you were that little boy once. I can only imagine what you must have been through to become this. A heart doesn't become black like that through sickness. You...corrupted yourself, I think. You knew that I had been kidnapped by those pirates and taken to the echo caves, didn't you? No one could have walked right into your camp without you knowing it. You planned it, so that I would be grateful to you and want to stay. It was a game to you."

"Very perceptive," he mumbled and Wendy lifted her hand away.

"But not completely," she responded softly and he rolled his eyes up, avoiding looking at her. "You may call me delusional but I know what I felt and I know it was true and I think you felt that too and it scared you. That's why you sent me away."

He snorted, still not looking at her. "I sent you away because you told me all I needed to know about Baelfire, who's part of something you don't even have an inking of," he said smugly and finally looked at her, restrained hands curling into fists. How he must hate feeling so helpless, she thought.

"In the Hollow your shadow protected me," she told him suddenly, curious despite herself. Half asleep Peter raised his eyebrows.

"What are you trying to prove? That I care for you? I've already admitted that. As I'm dying I may as well admit that I came back...came back for you for the simple reason that I miss - missed you. But that's not love," he proclaimed, eyes fluttering closed. Wendy bent over him again and could feel the heat burning off him before she touched his skin. She found a wet cloth next to a bowl of water and placed it over his forehead. His eyes blinked open.

"You're burning up."

"I – I'm not an invalid," he mumbled grumpily. "Why...why are you doing this?"

"Just be thankful that I am," she said, not knowing why she was either. "I think you've frightened the nurses away," she said and he chuckled. He gazed at her sleepily, thoughtfully. After his initial bout of rage he now seemed remarkably calm. It should have put Wendy on alert but it did not, not then.

"Let's say, for the sake...sake of argument, that the spell Tink did was not a f- fluke and that we are True Love," his mouth curled mockingly at the phrase and Wendy lifted the cloth off his head, staring at him incredulously.

"You know it was not a fluke or do your powers of self deception stretch even here?"

He rolled his eyes but shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. "Humour me. What are the odds that we, from two separate worlds, could mean that to each other?"

"Well, you come from my world don't you?" she asked flatly and was rewarded with a look of shock. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"What makes you say that?"

"Tink said that he was from my world. The other two possibilities were Felix and Slightly," she told him and at this he laughed.

"Slightly! What competition!"

Wendy pursed her mouth at his arrogance. "So you are from this world?" she asked and he remained silent, gazing at her intently before he finally nodded with a sigh.

"A long, long time ago. That's why I find this True Love...thing hard to believe. If I had never gone to Neverland, if I had lived here and grew into a man and never...never known magic I would have been dead centuries by the time you were born," he said gently, trying to reason with her but Wendy shook her head.

"Tink said that True Love is very hard to find in this world and I presume for that reason," she thought aloud, feeling that it was true.

"So if the timing had been right we'd be in wedded bliss now? Starting a family? How...ordinary," Peter thinned his mouth in distaste, looking unconvinced when he suddenly gasped in pain, jerking up. "Fuck!"

"Peter!"

He laughed at her shock but then the laugh turned into a moan that whistled between his teeth. He was in real pain and again she could not stop her pity. He did not deserve her, not an ounce of her kindness but she could not ignore him like this. She had hoped to be free of him but now that she finally had the chance she found it impossible to go.

"I don't feel good," he groaned and she bent down over him again. "I hate this, I hate this bloody place! It's this shadow," he grunted suddenly and she wondered if he had a fever.

"What about it?"

"It – it feels too much, it weighs me down. I hate it," he said bitterly, sweating profusely and he seemed to slip in and out of consciousness. He was delirious.

"Peter?"

"Wendy? Wh...where am I?"

"In London," she said and placed her hand against his burning cheek.

"I...I don't want to die," he muttered, barely audible. "I...I really am fond of you...I will win, I just – just need a heart...you're mine...for always...they're coming," he rambled quietly and Wendy straightened.

"Who are coming?"

"The...the boys of course," he said as if this was obvious. He opened his eyes and grinned at her which made her lean back sharply. "You don't think I haven't...haven't planned for every – every eventuality?"

"What do you mean?!"

"They're coming for you and then...then they'll come for me," he whispered, eyes burning with something other than fever before he slipped back into unconsciousness. Wendy jumped to her feet, staring between Peter and the door anxiously. He had been playing for time, tricking her into talking with him so that the boys had time to search. But the Lost Boys would not look here, they would be searching the one place that Wendy fought so hard to get back to.

"Home," she moaned and ran from the room, leaving Peter behind and cursed herself for thinking that even a dying, powerless Peter was de-clawed.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_Would people be interested in lengthening their stay in London or move the story on? Because I could do either :)_


	10. Chapter 10

**_note:_**

_This chapter wraps up the past section of this story._

* * *

~past~

At first her tread had been heavy, weighed down by dark thoughts and a heavy heart but the closer she got to the camp the quicker she moved. After everything she had learnt, after everything she had been through only one need pulsed through her: the desire to go home. She had thought she had been running away towards adventure, to a land without consequences and daydreams made real but the truth was shattering. The real world had responsibility and hardship and at that moment Wendy yearned for it with a deep passion because anything was better than this reality.

She marched into the camp, mind focused on her mission and found the boys dancing around the fire with Peter at the centre. He was cut off from her, the boys blocking her attempts to get through until she darted through a gap, using a few choice elbow jabs, and came to a skidding stop before the fire.

"Come to join the dance?" Peter asked, mouth hovering over the pipes.

"No! I want to speak to you in private!" she shouted over the roaring of the fire. It was blazing hot and made her eyes water.

"Later, I'm busy," he said flatly and began playing again.

Wendy shook her head, moving closer to him, "No, we must speak now, it's urgent! I can't stay here any more Peter!" she told him, trying to meet his eyes but he watched the boys dancing around as if she was not there. She stood in front of him, blocking his view but he simply swivelled on his seat, moving away from her. Almost screaming with frustration she grabbed the pipes out of his hands and threw them with all her might over the dancers and into the jungle. Peter jumped up.

"Well that was rude!"

"I WANT TO GO HOME!" she yelled and the boys who had been dancing slowed, blinking their eyes as if waking from a dream. Peter smiled at them and Wendy shuddered. If she asked most of them they would gladly tell her that Neverland was their only home, unaware that once they must have felt like hostages. It's no wonder they give into the music.

"First one to find the pipes gets to be William Tell!" Peter shouted and the boys dashed away, though some lingered, looking confused.

"I want -" she began but he cut her off, taking her hand and began walking. He took them to the very end of the camp, away from any prying eyes. Wendy pulled her hand away and he turned to her with a sigh.

"You were saying?"

"I want to return home, I won't stay here for another night. Take me home, now," she said firmly, looking him in the eye and his lips curled.

"I don't usually respond well to commands Wendy."

But she stared at him in silence, face harsh and he sighed again. He reached up and coiled a strand of her hair around his finger as she stared at his face. He slowly shook his head and let the curl spring free.

"I thought you were enjoying your stay here, barring the cave fiasco. I thought we were having fun? We are friends aren't we?" he asked, looking up with large, soft eyes.

Despite the things that she had been told her heart still ached. "How can we be friends now?"

"I wish I could take back what I said, though my feelings haven't changed. I'm sorry for any upset that Tink has caused -"

"Tink? She is not to blame here," Wendy narrowed her eyes while his eyebrows rose.

"And I am? You can't force someone to love another."

"I know that!" she said forcefully. "I would never dream of doing such a thing. Maybe the dust was wrong but you did not see what I did. The dust lead me to you and – and I knew in my heart it would. I – I don't feel like it was a mistake," she admitted, unable to look him in the eye.

"Then stay," he urged quietly and she looked up. He was gazing at her with such tenderness that she felt something in her bleeding. It was an expression full of need, yearning and hope and he was giving it to her. How easy it would be to latch onto that, to let it obliterate her morality and sweep aside the awful truth but she could not.

"I can't. Even if the spell had never been performed I'd still want to go home Peter," she said gently and the loving gaze he had for her was instantly replaced with indignation.

"Why?"

"Because this is not a good place and I think...I think it's got to you," she said hedgingly and he stared at her for a long moment before suddenly laughing.

"Got to me? I think you'll find it's the other way around," he boasted and Wendy shook her head.

"Then that's even worse. If you're really capable of doing the things I've heard -"

"What things?!" he demanded but Wendy waved a hand.

"It does not matter. Even without being told I knew there was something wrong with this place, with all of you. I – I don't want that to happen to me."

Peter leaned forward and touched her cheek, "Nothing will happen to you. I'll keep you safe."

"From what? Who holds all the power here? Who controls the games? You do...I think that's why you were so shocked after we..." she touched her mouth and his eyes lingered there. "It was not something you had control over. It was not planned." He gazed at her intensely and she found it hard to breathe. In her heart there was a piece of hope that he would realise that she was right, that he would stop being scared. Because that is what it was, what she had seen with her own eyes. He had been frightened. Wendy leaned up closer and whispered "You don't have anything to fear."

He blinked and leaned back, dropping his hand. "Fear? Of what? You?"

"Of that," she breathed and looked up. The sky was spotless and more stars then she had ever seen were shinning. It was a breathtaking sight but Peter looked at the sky like it was a traitorous thing, his teeth bared.

"No, time is meant to stand still," he said hoarsely and then looked down at Wendy in accusation. "It's nonsense, nothing else holds sway here, only me and I can prove it."

He grabbed her and pressed his lips against hers hard. It was a rough kiss, one meant to prove his dominance over everything but as they touched that current ran through them again, though muted now by dark truths. She gasped into his mouth, heart blazing and he squeezed her waist convulsively until he tore himself away with difficulty. They breathed heavily and Wendy's mind whirled but she felt a clear, sharp burst of victory.

"You see? That's not nonsense."

He was breathing fast, eyes burning with the beginnings of cruelty. "It is ridiculous and this has no place in Neverland! You, and your feelings, have no place here. You mean nothing to me, you've got no sway over me, no one has! Do you understand?" he stressed and Wendy had never seen him so out of control.

"Peter..."

"You want to go home? Fine, I'll let you go because frankly I don't need you and never did. You were just something to occupy the time. Soon I'll have the Heart of the Truest Believer and nothing like this will happen again."

Tears stung her eyes but she did not cry. "You're wicked."

"Really? I seem to recall I made a promise to you and I never break a promise. I'll let you go but at night I'll take one of your brothers in return," he smirked at her appalled face.

"YOU CAN'T!"

"I can do whatever I like. Now go home and have a nice, boring life Wendy Darling," he said through his teeth and then vanished in front of her, making her jump. Alone and stunned Wendy looked up at the sky that was now smothered by clouds. She did not know how long she stayed there but when someone tapped her shoulder she felt like it was the first time she moved in days. It was Tink.

"He – he says I'm to take you home," Tink said gently and Wendy nodded weakly. It was only after that she wondered why the Shadow did not take her home. The fairy took her hand and then poured pixie dust over her head. They both floated into the air and up towards the sky. Wendy had a hazy, faint recollection of her journey home. She remembered the orange blur of the fire in the camp and the figures dancing around it frenziedly, only they did not look like boys any more. Shuddering Wendy stared up at Tink hollowly.

"You can fly?"

"Just for tonight. He – he was not pleased with what I did and he knows how much I love to fly..." she stared fiercely at the star ahead as they burst out of the clouds.

"Why don't you leave?"

"I can't, I'm waiting for someone...and if Pan succeeds I won't even need wings or pixie dust. I'll show that blue bitch," she muttered darkly and Wendy gazed down and saw with a mild surprise that they were now in London. Dawn was approaching and below the city was remarkably clear of the usual soupy mist. As they flew over Russell Square Wendy felt an intense flare of emotion, cutting through the fog she had been in since leaving Neverland.

"There, that's my home," Wendy pointed and Tink flew down. When they hovered over Bloomsbury Square the fairy stopped and looked at Wendy fixedly.

"I know you don't feel like it now but you don't know how blessed you are. You're free," she hugged her and wished her luck and Wendy clung on, knowing that she'd probably never see her again. A part of her cried out in a similar pain that she never got to say goodbye to Peter and she hated herself for it.

"Goodbye Tinkerbell. I hope that one day..." she fell silent, knowing that any wishes she had would be useless to the fairy. If a fairy could not grant her own wishes and hopes what good would hers do? Instead Wendy hugged her tightly, repeating her farewell before Tink flew her to the open nursery window.

Asleep on the window seat was Baelfire and Wendy looked down at him. It was strange, as if she was seeing him after years and years but he did not look any different. But then neither did she. She stepped onto the window ledge and Bae jerked awake in fear, turning.

"It's all right, it's just me," she said quietly and he stared at her in amazement. She was home but Tink was wrong, she was not free, not while her brother's safety was in question. As she sat on her bed with Bae and explained what had happened to her but she could not tell him everything. It was only afterwards, when Bae had been taken by the Shadow that she realised that she had not named Peter once. With Bae gone she vowed that she would do everything she could to get him back because Peter had made good on his promise, he had taken one of her brothers and she would not stop until she found a way to save him.

* * *

_Three Months Later_

It was by chance that she overheard them, walking with her brothers and Nana through Kensington Gardens but by that point Wendy had a strong belief that there were no coincidences.

"Says he appeared out of thin air. George saw him, didn't you mate?"

"Aye. Was kipping underneath the bench and when sudden like there was a great blinding light and winds a'blowing something awful. Then this wee lad fell from it," the elderly man said and Wendy stopped. A group of old soldiers, whom she suspected were homeless, were huddled together on a bench.

"Well this place has always been full of tales of ghost children and the like," one of them said and shifted in his coat uncomfortably. Wendy took a step towards them, her brothers and Nana now far ahead, unaware that she was lingering. All at once they seemed to realise they had company and Wendy smiled at them.

"Good afternoon. I – I couldn't help overhearing, it seemed a most thrilling story," she said politely and the old men chuckled, except for the witness.

"Just stuff and nonsense," they said but George grumbled.

"It was not nonsense, I saw it with my own eyes do you hear?"

"Don't listen to him my lady. He's bladdered half the time."

Indignant, the man sat up straight. "I may have had the odd tipple to warm me up but I swear on my Nancy's grave that it was true. And that's not all! This place is long haunted, you've heard the tales," he demanded and the others looked grim. Wendy took another step forward.

"What tales?"

George blinked, amazed that he was actually being taken seriously. "Well...there's thin spots see and one of them be here," he said, pointing a grubby finger to the ground. "When I was a boy my mother used to warn me not to stay here after closing time, not after dark. Cause then he'd come and take you away."

"Who – who would?"

"The Pied Piper," he said and the others laughed. Wendy leaned back, heart sinking. He was mad but George was not giving in without a fight. "You can laugh but I know! He would take wee ones from their prams, ones that were sick or dead, I dunno, but he would take 'em to a thin spot and then they were never seen again..." he waggled his fingers dramatically which made his friends laugh harder.

"To a thin spot?" Wendy asked and he nodded.

"There are more things in 'eaven and earth, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. 'Ol Bill had it right and no mistake. You stay here long enough and you'll see," he said and sat back, satisfied that he got to say his piece.

Wendy stared at him, unsure. They others found his ramblings amusing and had nothing but scorn for his tale but he was right. There was more to the earth then they knew. Maybe if she discovered one of these thin spots, a spot that was no doubt created by a bean portal, she could find a way to Bae. She would try and to hell with the neighbours. They thought she was peculiar and she had no problem fuelling their prying and incessant gossip. She would take it if it meant rescuing Baelfire.

"Come on Wendy! What are you doing all the way down there?" John shouted, motioning her over to them while Nana barked. Wendy waved at them and turned to the gathering of old men.

"Thank you, you've been most helpful," she said sincerely and George blinked as she ran off and sat back, content for the day. Wendy caught up with her family, who stared at her with a concealed worry that they had been wearing for months.

"Come on Wendy, the park is closing soon," Michael said and she nodded.

"Yes, I'll be right behind you."

They walked towards Hyde Park, towards home, and as they left Wendy looked back at the park as mist swirled around the trees. She would be back and then, if she was lucky, she would find a way back to Neverland, to Bae and damn Peter in the process.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_And that leads nicely back, hopefully, to the first chapter where Wendy is at boarding school because she spent a night at Kensington Gardens. From here on out the rest of the chapters will take place in the present. _

_Thank you all so much for your amazing response to the last chapter! I was flailing and still am! :D_


	11. Chapter 11

Bloomsbury Square was only a ten minute walk from Great Ormond Street Hospital and as Wendy dashed out of the ward she was fired with the need to protect her family, to warn them but her body put up a groaning protest. In Neverland you could believe your aches and pains away and while she had rebelled against that she did not entirely and now she was paying the price. She was sick, thin and needed bed rest. Legs shaking she gripped the banister as she paused on the stair.

"Come on, stupid old legs," she demanded and took a few more steps before she collapsed and sat heavily. "No!" She grabbed the railing to pull herself up when she heard a squeak behind her.

"You should not be out of bed," said a stern voice and Wendy turned to see a severe looking nun staring down at her. She must be the matron, she thought.

"I must go home, I have to warn...warn my family," she said with difficulty. It felt like her mouth was full of taffy. With the last her of strength she pulled herself up right and almost fell down the stairs. With a speed not thought possible the matron gripped her arm and half carried her back to the ward.

"Silly girl, could have broken your neck," she said as they passed Peter's room. Wendy craned her head around.

"In there, please, I want to be in there," she said weakly and the matron cocked an eyebrow.

"No such thing."

"Please...he's dying and alone. Please," she mumbled, leaning against the nurse and it seemed to soften the old woman's heart.

"Very well but if I see you out here before breakfast then I will find a bed next to his and shackle you to it too!"

"Thank you," Wendy said, hoping the woman's threats were just bluster. She was placed gently into a chair beside his bed and she had a vague impression of Peter and the matron bending over him before she sunk into sleep.

When she woke again light was filtering through the curtain and there was a patter of rain against the window. It was a comfortingly familiar sound and she let herself focus on that, seep into it before she turned her head and winched. Her neck was stiff and as she sat up straight her limbs shook. She was utterly famished and had never felt so exhausted. But she only had eyes for the boy. As she slept someone had removed his restraints and smoothed the covers over his body. He lay still, very still and Wendy involuntarily caught her breath. She stared at his pale white face and then at his chest. Nothing.

"Peter?" she uttered softly and leaned forward. He looked peaceful and seemed healthier then he had last night but he was too quiet, too still. She raised a shaking hand and rested the back of her fingers against his cheek. He was warm. A long, relieved breath escaped past her lips and she slumped over, hand on his chest. She could feel him breathe now but it was at a rate far too slow to be normal.

_But he's not normal_, she thought and felt too exhausted to move. So when the matron and the people accompanying her came into the room it was to find Wendy half embracing Peter. It was a sight to touch even the hardest of hearts.

"Wendy?"

The voice was so familiar and yet so foreign that Wendy laid still, head resting beside his shoulder, and assumed that she must be dreaming. But then someone else said her name, a man and she lifted her head wearily. Her mother and father were staring down at her, both still in their night things, with an expression of bewildered amazement that matched her own.

"M – mother? Father?"

"Oh my child!" her mother cried and she was suddenly engulfed in her arms. Her mother was an affectionate woman who was not shy in showing it but that embrace brought to mind only a few hugs that matched it in pure, fierce love. She held her like she was giving Wendy back something, something sustaining.

"...Wendy, Wendy, Wendy," her father repeated her name and reached out to stroke her hair, as if making sure she was real. Satisfied that she was he wrapped his arms around her, Wendy's mother letting go to vainly dry her eyes with a handkerchief. George Darling finally leaned back and gripped Wendy's arms, his expression a strange mix of delight and reproach.

"Where on earth have you been?! We were mad with worry! It's been months and months and not a word. After that strange business at the school we thought you were dead or -"

"Not now George," Mary warned as Wendy tried to answer but could not. "Are you well my love?" She asked and Wendy nodded before glancing at Peter and her parents looked down at the bed.

"Who is this young man Wendy?" her mother asked, walking to the bed side. "You were lying next to him when we entered," she said and looked at her for explanation and as she did Peter started to stir. Wendy's heart froze as his eyes opened and he looked at each of the person's gathered around him in turn. He finally gazed at her, blinking slowly before a beautific smile bloomed on his face. It was the most tender thing she had ever seen.

"Wendy," he said warmly, his voice weak but the feeling in it was clear. Wendy could not move, unsure what game he was playing, if any.

"Are you acquainted with my daughter?" Mary asked softly and Peter blinked at her like a lamb and Wendy felt her mind become askew. How was it possible that someone so corrupt could look so utterly innocent?

Peter nodded and looked at Wendy, "Yes, we know each other," he said vaguely, still smiling at her and the dreadful implication of that expression smacked Wendy into life again.

"He's my...my friend," she blurted out and the hurt that surfaced on his face was quickly covered with a brave smile.

"Yes, that's – that's all I can hope for now," he said, looking down at his chest. He was a pitiful sight and he was completely convincing but Wendy knew him better then anyone else there. She narrowed her eyes at him as her father titled his head stiffly.

"Oh? Had you hoped for something before this?" His voice was formal, too formal and Wendy knew that any moment he would explode. When he rocked on his heels she knew it was time to hide.

"I could not presume to suggest such a thing, Sir," Peter said gravely, locking eyes with the increasingly red man. "I...I'm sick and your daughter deserves nothing more then my friendship now, if that," he admitted humbly and the words were like little needles in her skin.

"You're unwell?" Mary asked and Wendy could see the glow of concern in her mother's eyes and knew that she was a lost cause now. Peter had her.

Peter nodded and shrugged, "It – it came on sudden. Your - your daughter saved my life," he said and gazed at her proudly. Wendy wanted to smack him, herself, everyone to end the scene playing out before her. Her father looked up at her, eyebrows raised.

"Is that true?"

"She'll deny it but she did. I would have drowned if she hadn't pulled me from the lake. It – it was my fault, the boat over-tipped and I wasn't strong enough to swim. Silly..."

Mary shook her head, as if trying to shake off the spell that he was weaving with his words. "Who are you?" she asked in wonder.

"My name is Peter."

"And you are...betrothed to my daughter?" George finally asked as the words burst out of him. It seemed to relieve the stress he was under, his puce tone fading to pink. Wendy stared at Peter, taut as a piano wire and waited as he took some time answering.

"It...it's a sweet subject," he began and that broke Wendy, having him throw her words back at her, mocking her.

"Enough! That's enough! I won't hear any more!" she shouted, making her parents jump. They had just been reunited with their long lost child but they had been bewitched by this silver tongued demon. The unfairness of it all was enough to make her scream.

"Wendy!" her mother cried, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Mother, please let me explain," she started and stopped, looking at Peter. Her parents were focused on her now so they did not see the arrogant look on his face or the way his eyebrow cocked in expectation. The ball was in her court now but she could only play the game he had started. She wanted to deny him, to leave him there but what could she say? It was the obvious and easiest explanation. She had fallen in love with a boy while at school and eloped with him only to find out that he was sick and doing the noble thing they had returned to London to ask for her father's blessing.

To think that he had devised all that in the space between her parents walking through the door and opening his eyes. She had never met someone so devious, or so brilliant. She could not tell them that he had coerced her to stay with him and kept her trapped because the first thing they had seen was Wendy all but lying beside him. How could she twist that? His explanation was a trap but also a way out. She could not tell them the truth. They would not send her to boarding school after confessing this time but Bedlam. Wendy inhaled, steeling herself.

"I – I love him."

"And I'd like your daughter to stay with me forever, if it were possible," Peter added smoothly and stared at her in adoration. _Oh to get him alone_, she thought, teeth grinding but she forced herself to look at her parents.

Her mother looked touched but cautious while her father was scandalised but wavering. His daughter's reputation was ripped to pieces but now the only way to redeem her, and himself, was to do the only foreseeable thing for a young woman in her position.

"You – you say that you're sick? Not to be indelicate but...how sick?" George asked and Wendy could see his thought process. Sick enough to leave her disgraced or sick enough to at least leave her widowed? It made Wendy pale at the prospect and again she had to make another stab at restoring sanity.

"I don't want to marry him," she said, looking at her mother beseechingly who looked startled.

"I – I see...but you do love him, as you said?" she asked weakly.

"Y – yes but he's so unwell, you see. He agrees with me, don't you Peter?" she said, looking at him desperately and making a proper go of it she went to him and took his hand. "He's honourable to a fault and does not want to tie me to such an uncertain future. If – if he was well then that would be a different matter."

Peter squeezed her hand, pulling her closer and she thought for one heart racing second that he would kiss her hand. But he just brushed his thumb over her bare wedding finger. "She's right, of course. I had wanted to give her mama's ring but she refused," he explained gently.

"Are your parents aware of this – this arrangement?" Mary asked delicately and Peter shook is head.

"They're dead, god rest them. I'm afraid it's just me and the estate," he sighed sadly and Wendy closed her eyes with a wince. Her father cocked his head like a hound scenting blood.

"Estate?"

"Oh yes, it's a small place but very old. There's not much I'm afraid, my ancestors were a fickle bunch but there's still the title," he said offhandedly and Wendy wanted to bite someone. He was so convincing that she half suspected he was fooling himself. She squeezed his hand until her knuckles went white. As visions of castles and money went through her parents minds the matron walked in, clearing her throat as two nurses followed her.

"I'm afraid we must ask you to vacate for the present time, we must examine the patient," she said in a no nonsense tone and Mary stared at the nurse gravely.

"Please, do all you can for him," she said passionately and the matron nodded.

"Are you family?"

"...We're, well to be perfectly honest that's rather in the air at this point. He's someone dear to our daughter," Mary finished and the woman nodded in understanding.

"Yes, I thought so. She was ready to journey to you in her present state to warn you of his condition. Touching but foolish. As for this young man, well, it was touch and go for awhile during the night. He was feverish and hysterical but he seems, by the looks of him, to be on the mend."

"What?"

"What?!"

Peter and Wendy yelled in unison. Wendy was surprised while Peter looked confused and in that moment Wendy knew he truly believed that he was dying. That was why he had created this game because when he died she would be the one to pick up the pieces as retribution for besting him. Then she would have the Lost Boys to answer to, if they arrived. Thinking of them made her stomach lurch but the nurse was ushering her and her parents from the room as two nurses, one that Wendy recognised, peaked around the matron like mice looking around a door for a vicious cat. At least someone knew to be wary.

"What a morning! I could hardly believe it when Liza woke us," her father said, shaking his head while Wendy was lead to a bench. All around them children in varying degrees of health were rising for breakfast. Wendy suddenly realised how hungry she was, how frazzled and she leaned against her mother's side as she sat down next to her. Mary took Wendy's shoulders and looked into her face intently.

"Tell me truly, do you honestly love him?"

"I...I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head. She was so confused and so much had happened. She felt like if she did not have room to breathe she would explode.

"But you did once?"

Wendy felt her throat tighten and her eyes prickle. "Oh mother, I have never loved anyone so much!"

She confessed and she was pulled into a tight embrace as her father stared down at her, bottled up with the need to express his love but too restrained and disciplined to know how. Wendy pressed her face against her mother's shoulder and cried.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_I was gonna write this tomorrow and post but I surprised myself, so there you are. Hope you liked the turn of events :)_


	12. Chapter 12

Before she had been shipped off to boarding school Wendy had graduated up from the Nursery to her own room. Truth be told she was too old to sleep there any more but she had half suspected that her parents, her father in particular, had done so to stem off her influence over her brothers. It was one thing to have your oldest child spouting nonsense but it was quite another to have your other children doing the same. So as if she was something contagious she was sequestered to her own room.

She slept through the afternoon, evening and straight on until the next day, when she awoke late in the morning. As it so often seems to happen she woke in confusion, trying to place her whereabouts and relaxed when she had. She had only spent a few months in her room and she had disliked it immensely but now everything she saw was precious. As she turned her head on the pillow she saw the most precious sight of all.

"You're awake! We weren't sure if you ever would!" Michael said while John nodded, grinning at her. They were sat at the bedside and Wendy wondered if they had been there since she arrived, an event she only had the faintest recollection of. Tears ran down her face as she opened up her arms and hugged them both, though she could not hold them as tightly as she wished. When her brothers sat back, wiping their wet faces, they stared at Wendy anxiously.

"We tried to warn mother and father!" Michael said. "We tried to tell them the truth but they wouldn't believe us!"

"You did get my letter then?" she had never been sure but it seemed Peter made good on his promise as her brothers nodded.

"And the Shadow took our reply back but when we tried to show father your letter we couldn't find it! It simply vanished into thin air!" John said in exasperation and she was not surprised that such a thing happened. Of course Peter would want them to look mad and foolish, with nothing to back up their story. Wendy gazed at John sadly and was struck by how grown up he seemed now. She had been gone for a few months while in Neverland but spent a year in Brighton and she had only seen them sparingly. In that time both of her brothers seemed so much older somehow. She could only imagine the worry they must have endured. She took their hands and gazed at them adoringly.

"I love you both so much and I never forgot you. I said your names everyday, I recalled everything I could!" she said, almost defensively. She had remembered them but she had to fight to do so. Her parents had been the ones most affected by her time in Neverland and she felt a squirming guilt because of it.

"I don't understand, how did you escape? Did the Shadow let you go again? What happened to Bae?" John asked, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

Wendy blinked, mouth open. She could tell them that Baelfire was not in Neverland but as to his whereabouts or well being she could not say. She did not want to add another worry onto their already burdened shoulders. "He escaped! Before I arrived he managed to get off Neverland and I'm sure wherever he is he's doing splendidly!" she said, convincingly rousing and the boys cheered quietly. It wasn't really a lie if she believed it too.

"So you're home for good now? The Shadow will leave us alone?" John asked as the good news about Bae wore off.

"It's not the Shadow we have to worry about, it's Peter," Wendy said grimly and fretted how she would tell them about him when Michael sat up with a frown.

"Your betrothed? We heard Liza talking."

"He is nothing of the kind!" Wendy responded indignantly, fuming that Peter's lie was circulating her house when he wasn't even there to spread it. She turned her irritated face to her brothers who looked confused and startled. They needed to know about Peter, about what happened to her but the prospect was daunting. But she had to tell someone, had to share the truth with the only people who would believe her. "It – it all started one night while I was at boarding school..."

They listened attentively, mostly quiet apart from cries of horror or outrage. They clapped when she told them about tricking Peter and escaping but as she finished her tale John frowned, shaking his head.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I would have left him to drown," he replied ruthlessly. He saw Peter as an opponent, someone who he could fight for his sister's honour but Wendy dreaded the idea.

"I don't want you to have any foolish notions about avenging me, either of you! He may look like a boy but he's not. He's crafty and delights in tormenting others and I have no desire to see any of you on the receiving end of his sick games. Do you understand me?" she asked fiercely, pinning both of them with her eyes and they nodded, bowing their heads.

"Still think I could take a pop at him, I've been taking boxing," John mumbled and Wendy sighed. She had not told them about her entanglement and feelings for Peter, if she had she could only imagine what her brothers would do, as young as they were.

"If anyone is taking pops at him it's me. Maybe a good smack around the head will finish him off," she mused dryly and explained that Peter was sick, which made John and Michael clap again. Wendy winced, thinking of the scene that played out in Peter's hospital room.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked, visions of besting someone in a fight flying through his head.

"When mother and father came to the hospital they talked to Peter and uh, well...he convinced them of something," she uttered, coils of humiliation stirring, and pressed on. "Our parents don't believe what really happened and they probably never will so the most likely scenario that they would believe is – is..." she could not finish, the words stuck in her throat.

"Is what?" they asked.

"Is that I eloped with Peter while at school," she explained in a rush and John looked appalled while Michael was confused.

"What does elope mean?"

"It means to run away with someone," John explained. "Usually two people who love each other but their parents don't approve."

"But you don't love him, do you Wendy?" John asked innocently and Wendy laughed.

"Of course I don't! How absurd!" she was surprised how smooth and easy the lie slipped from her and how they believed it without question. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. "Mother and father believe him and I've also lead them to because what else can I do?" she asked and her brothers shrugged, looking uneasy.

"I don't like it." Michael whined.

"Neither do I but you have to play along. I want to continue living here and you know how reputation is so important to papa. Peter will carry on with this game for as long as it amuses him I think. I beat him and I know he won't back down until he's won again, so he will not be out of our lives." In fact she had the horrible suspicion that once he was deemed well enough to leave the hospital he would be sent straight home to them. Her mother would do it, she had no doubt.

"This is all just rotten!" John grumbled, balling his fists and Wendy gazed at him intently.

"If you do meet him please just promise me two things? Don't confront him and don't fall for his lies. He may be without magic here but he's no less dangerous. He – he has a way about him," she admitted quietly.

"Who does?" Mary asked as she walked into the room. She smiled happily at Wendy and put her arms around her sons. "Come on you two, give your sister some rest," she said and ushered them out of the room but did not leave with them. She closed the door and turned to Wendy.

"Are you well enough to come down for some tea or should Liza come up with a tray?"

"I'd like to come down," Wendy said and her mother took a night gown and helped Wendy put it on. She was surprised when Mary wrapped her arms about her.

"I know you're not a child any longer but I wish I could just carry you like this everywhere," she said gently, half laughing. "Just to keep you safe."

"I missed you so much," Wendy said and felt a little spike of guilt. She had not missed her mother as much as she should have. Those damn pipes were to blame, she thought and immediately spotted the satchel that she had brought from Neverland with her. The pipes should be in there, though she could not think what use they would be now. It was only afterwards that she realised her oversight.

"We've been back to the hospital, to check up on Peter," Mary said softly, leaning back and Wendy held her breath. "He's better than he was but after some examinations they think that he has a heart condition," she explained very gently and Wendy nodded, trying to act surprised.

"I – I knew something was wrong with him."

"Well he seemed to take it well. In fact he said that he could have told the doctors that and spared them the time. He's quite tenacious, isn't he?" Mary said, bemused and Wendy held her tongue.

"So...what now?"

"Well once he's strong enough, which according to the doctor will be soon, I think it would be best if he stayed here with us."

Wendy knew it was a possibility but she still had to carefully control herself. Biting back her displeasure she tried to smile gratefully. "Is father happy with that arrangement?"

Mary's mouth thinned. "Not at first but he came around. As if we could send a sick person all the way back to some drafty island with no one to take care of him. After Baelfire ran away your father was furious, as you remember. I had to convince him that this is utterly different."

She would never forget the things that Bae had been called and the arguments she had gotten into defending him. "That's why I was...hesitant about returning home mother, I knew father was unlikely to approve or let us stay."

Mary smoothed her hair and down and kissed her forehead. "Do not think too harshly on your father. As I say he's relented and truth be told he seems charmed by Peter already."

"I'm sure he is..." Wendy said faintly as Mary lead her from the room and down stairs to the dining room, lending Wendy a hand. Her father had been to visit Peter and she could only imagine that tales he must have spun him, ones involving crisp bank notes she had no doubt. The curse of having a poor but aspiring bank clerk for a father.

* * *

The next few days passed dreamlike, one blending into the next so quick that Wendy barely had time to process them. It was so different to Neverland where there seemed just the right amount of time for whatever Peter had planned. Everything there seemed to last so long but it was never boring, unless you were not under Peter's influence and then time dragged. Those nights in the cave had been the loneliest of Wendy's time on the island and so she focused on the fast pace of London life and tried to relish it.

She feigned weakness to avoid visiting Peter and it worked but soon the act became too much. She was stuck in her room and was only allowed to sit in their small back garden and soon she was starved for exercise. She wanted to go out for walks and if she was strong enough to do that then she was strong enough to see Peter.

"But he'll be home with us soon, won't he?" Wendy asked her father as they took a carriage to the hospital. Her father would call it a waste of money as it was so close but he still seemed worried for her health, as her mother did. They also wanted her in their sights, as if she would disappear when they were not looking.

_To run away_, she thought ideally. For a moment she imagined going to King's Cross station and catching a train to a place where no one knew who she was or what she had seen. A place where reputation and power hungry boys could not enter, somewhere she could live in peace. An island all to herself, maybe...the carriage bumped over a cobble and she was jerked out of her daydream and immediately felt ashamed of herself. Only cowards run away and it would be useless if she tried anyway, Peter would find her in whatever land or world she ran to, she felt that in her bones.

"Wendy? Are you listening to me?" her father asked as the carriage stopped outside the red bricked hospital.

"Sorry, I was miles away. What were you saying?"

"That it seemed counterproductive to leave him there day after day. He's on the mend and those beds don't come cheap," he said as he helped her down. Wendy paused, eyes growing wide.

"What, we're taking him home with us now?"

"No time like the present," he said briskly and rubbed his hands together before eyeing Wendy gently. "Do you want to wait here? Those stairs can take the puff out of you," he said and tipped his hat to the driver before entering the hospital.

Wendy sat back, worrying over the lace on her sleeve and eyed the horse ahead of her as it stamped the road impatiently. She could tell the driver to go ahead, to make for the nearest station and then she would write and lay out the truth and send it to her parents. But then she would be leaving them at his mercy.

Her desperate thoughts were interrupted when her father appeared with Peter. He was still in his night clothes, with a dressing gown over them, and leaning on her father's arm but he looked a lot better then he had. Catching her eye he smiled at her in delight and she felt a traitorous squeezing of her stomach and found it hard to breathe the closer he got. George opened the door and told Wendy to move over and Peter sat down next to her.

"I'll be upfront with the driver. I'll tell him to take it slow," George said and closed the door.

Left alone with Peter for the first time in days Wendy stared ahead fixedly, fisting her coat over her knees. He gazed at her, head tilted.

"Well, I'm floored by your overjoyed greeting. I'm sure that's the sort of thing your father would expect," he whispered and Wendy clenched her jaw and fisted her hands even harder before she turned to Peter and took his hand.

"I'm happy to see you looking so well," she said stiffly and he rolled his eyes.

"Come on, I know you can do better."

"I will not," she hissed through her teeth but then leaned closer to him when her father looked back. She smiled until he looked away.

"Better," Peter said and laced his fingers through hers. His proximity to her was electric, she was so tense her whole body felt like it was vibrating. Everything he said, every move he made produced a little shock wave through her.

"This is utterly ridiculous," she whispered as he moved his face closer to her. "What can you possibly hope to gain from this charade?"

"I thought you'd be pleased," he said, the corner of his mouth curling at her displeasure. "You could have denied it at any time but you played along. I'm doing this because it's fun and I have to do _something_ to pass the time in this tedious place before I leave."

"So you just like to torment me?"

"I wouldn't do this for just anyone you know," he muttered and then chuckled at her mulish expression. "Come on, you know the alternative would have been worse."

"I don't like lying to them," she said unhappily and he nodded.

"I know but you do it so well," he said with a quiet pride which disgusted Wendy.

"If you're so sure that you're leaving why even bother? This all seems so beneath you, so...ordinary," she countered and he shrugged.

"When in Rome...look I find the prospect of spending even a day here repellent. I do have important things to accomplish but I also have time. I'm patient and I suppose, if I have to, I'd rather spend that time with you."

"How sweet," she uttered sarcastically and he squeezed her hand gently as they approached Bloomsbury Square. She turned to him and stared hard. "This is mad and against all reason but you are about to enter my house and interact with my family. You've already poured your poison into my parents ears but you will not do the same to my brothers," she warned and he cocked an eyebrow, amused.

"I'll be on my best behaviour, though you don't deserve it," he said and she felt a shiver go through her. "That little trick you pulled really could have had _unpleasant_ consequences but luckily I had this," he looked down and pulled something shiny out of his dressing gown pocket.

"Your dagger?"

"It's from Neverland, made from Neverland. If it wasn't you and me would not be having this conversation now," he said, eyeing the house before them. Wendy gazed down, thoughtful. He would be dead if he didn't have the knife, that small connection to the island.

"What – what if you lose it?"

"You better hope I don't," he said, glancing at her sharply and the threat was implicit. She swallowed and bit the inside of her lip. Peter stared at the house with distaste. "I wish we didn't have to go in so soon. I was climbing the walls in that bloody hospital. All those simpering idiots who didn't have a clue."

At this admittance Wendy smiled, feeling vindictive at his unease. As the carriage stopped she leaned forward and called out to her father. "I think Peter is feeling faint. You better put him straight to bed."

She was rewarded with a scathing glare that quickly turned into something unfocused and dreamy when her father opened the carriage door and looked at Peter in alarm. Wendy watched from her seat as Peter was lifted down and helped into the house but her bubbling spite was beset with worry as the full implication of what was happening hit her.

Peter Pan was in her house and no matter what little battles she won she was dealing with an old, sly being that drew pleasure by toying with her. His games would never end but here maybe she had an advantage. This was her home, her island, after all.

* * *

Peter was taken to one of their guests bedrooms, one that happened to be the closest to hers. Wendy wanted him as far from her as possible but then she did not want to inflict him on anyone else. As he was placed into bed she hovered by the window as Mary tucked him in. Peter took it with good grace but she could see the way his jaw clenched when her mother turned away.

"We'll bring up something if you're not up to joining us," Mary said kindly and brushed his hair back off his forehead. Peter smiled, a little to forcefully and when Mary walked to the door he looked slightly sick. "Are you coming Wendy?"

"Can I please have a moment alone with him mother? We – we haven't really had the chance to talk since the accident," she said, moving to his side. Mary hesitated, looking between them and Wendy wondered what salacious thoughts were floating in her mind. Her mother was a suffragette but not many of those had their daughter run away and spend months alone with a young man. Wendy could only imagine what her father was thinking, nothing pleasant that was for sure.

"Of course. I'll tell Liza to bring you both up a tray," she said graciously and left them alone, though she kept the door ajar. Once her footfalls had fallen away Wendy turned to Peter who had thrown the covers off and jumped out of bed. He did not move as gracefully or energetically as he once had but he was wound tight.

"I won't spend another second in bed. I've never spent so much time lying on my back! This place makes you slow and thick, it's so boring! No wonder you wanted to leave," he roamed around the room, inspecting the furniture and trinkets.

"I did think that once but I know differently now, thanks to you," she said and he ignored her, picking up a paper weight and bouncing it in his palm before replacing it with a brush._ Anything in his grasp looks like a weapon_, she thought darkly.

"So then, how shall we spend our time Darling?"

"Don't call me that _Pan_," she stressed and moved back when he approached her. "I thought the Lost Boys were coming for you?"

"Are they?" he asked, unconcerned as he stopped before her. He was far too close but she did not want to back away any further. This was her house, her territory and she would not give him any more ground.

"That's what you said at the hospital. You said a lot of nonsense actually."

"I expect I did, I was raving according to that harpy of a matron. What else did I say?" he asked, circling her. He eyed Wendy as if he was seeing her for the first time and there was something inappropriate and impertinent about his gaze.

"You – you said that you didn't want to die, that you felt heavy because of the shadow and that you hated this place. You even said you missed me," she replied and he stopped moving and gazed up at her thoughtfully.

"I did. Like I said I wouldn't do this for just anyone. I had a lot of time to think in that awful hospital, surrounded by those sick children and women with delusions of grandeur. I was angry with you, angry that I was back here but then I had a realisation. I'm here for a reason," he said, gazing at her intensely.

"You're here because I brought you here, unfortunately" she said slowly but he shook his head.

"No, I learned long ago that things don't just happen and if you're smart you can see what fate has in store, like lines and destinations on a map. This was a blip, a divergence and it will soon loop back to where it should be but for now I'll make the most it. I'll play this game."

"This isn't a game Peter! This is my life and you've ruined it," she cried out softly, trying to reason with him but he was stubbornly resolved.

"_They_ ruined it Wendy! You're not to blame for what happened, for wanting to get away from this place and really live free. It's those fools and their small mean minds that want to ruin your life. I want the opposite," he said and took her hands, making her heart race.

"Are you so arrogant not to see the part that you have played in this? Yes they think the worse but they didn't keep me trapped."

"You think so now but you'll see. When I leave you'll try to live among them, appease them and everyday you'll feel it tightening around you. They won't care about you, soon they'll just see this odd, ruined woman. They'll smile but they'll only ever see you as an embarrassment, a point of gossip and ridicule. One day, years from now you'll be lonely, worn out and old, dry from the pretence and you'll wish for me."

"Never," she whispered, shaking at his speech. His eyes bore into hers and she could not look away. "If here is a prison then what does that make Neverland?"

"Your home," he said softly. "That's why I'm staying because you're right. What I did was wrong, it was bad form. I tried to trap you like these people will. I'm going to stay here until you see the truth."

"What?" she breathed, her body leaning towards him.

"That you don't belong here. You belong with me," he said earnestly, drawing her closer to him when Liza walked in noisily with their lunch. Wendy sprang away from him but the maid was gaping at them, clearly thinking that she had interrupted an intimate moment.

_Which she had._

Peter smiled at the maid, telling her that the food smelled delicious as Wendy sat down in an armchair weakly. She had been so worried for her family, warning her brothers to be cautious of Peter's influence and never thought of herself. Peter was not targeting them, he was going to use his full powers of manipulation and guile until she bent to him, until there came a day when she asked to go back. Only then would he have truly won.

Peter settled the food tray on her lap and sat in an armchair beside hers with a smile. "Come on, eat up. We've got a whole life to plan Darling."

* * *

_**a.n:**_

_Next update in a few days. Thanks for reading/reviewing!  
_


	13. Chapter 13

Water dripped off shiny wet leaves and the humidity made her night gown cling to her skin. The jungle was steaming and the heat fettered, creatures buzzed and birds cried out above as she walked quietly along the path. She hurried, heart racing as fast as a rabbit's and looked up. It was night, true night. She could see stars through gaps in the canopy and her pace slowed and she breathed easier. There were no stars visible in Neverland.

_This is a dream. I'm not really back._

Wendy stood still, hands on her hips in contemplation. She had dreamed of Neverland before, of course, though they were more like nightmares but they had never seemed so real. She had never felt so lucid or utterly aware of her reality yet there was a gnawing fear that if she stayed too long she would be trapped, forced to stay while she wasted away in the real world.

Wendy squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to wake up when she heard voices. She stared up the path that lead to a large outcropping of stone covered in vines. She had never seen it before and curious despite herself she walked forward until she came to a gap in the foliage and peeked through.

"We'll come for you at once. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get through to you," a soft voice said and she knew it.

"Time passes slower in Neverland, it's been over a week for me but much longer for you. Hold off for now Felix, I'm working on something that needs time and my full attention. So I don't need you lot rushing in just yet. It's under control."

"I had no doubt. What about Wendy?"

"Oh leave her to me," he said with breathy relish and Wendy frowned. Peter made her sound as if she was something on a list to be ticked off.

"I went to Skull Rock, to check. It was pouring fast but it seems to have stopped now."

"Stopped?" Peter asked in surprise.

"Completely. I can't make sense of it," Felix said and Wendy narrowed her eyes. She could see shadows flickering on a wall, cast by a fire or a torch.

"Interesting..." Peter's back came into view and she crouched down but then wondered why. It was only a dream after all. She stayed hidden but rose slightly when Peter started talking again. "Tell the boys not to worry, I'm dealing with the situation and in time I'll be back."

"They're growing...restless without you here," Felix explained in his dry voice but there was an edge of unease to it.

"The influence of the pipes is wearing off. Still got to find those bloody things, Wendy had them last..."

"She's caused a lot of trouble," Felix said in annoyance and Peter chuckled.

"I know, I'm quite proud of her really," he said with unmistakable fondness and Wendy had to battle down a flush of pride. When Peter spoke again he was serious. "Use the dream caves on the ones that start to remember or get homesick."

"I'm not as skilled at using this place as you," Felix admitted.

"I know, it took me years to master it but then I didn't exactly have much else to occupy my time with...all right, get back to me with an update every week your time or if it's something urgent."

"What are you doing now?" Felix asked, clearly curious.

"Right now I'm guest of honour at the Darling household. I tried to get into Wendy's room to find the pipes but there's a bloody dog guarding her door. Doesn't like me," he said sniffily and Wendy felt a huge swell of love for Nana. Wendy blinked, thinking about what she had just heard and suddenly straightened, mind whirling in alarm. _This is not a dream! _She spun on her heels as Peter looked straight at her and she made to run but was suddenly frozen with shock. Two people were stood in front of her.

"Wendy? Where are we?" Michael asked as John looked up in confusion, his glasses fogging up with the humidity.

Wendy woke with a gasp, bolting upright in bed. It was dark and she reached over to turn up the gas lamp by her bedside. Room bathed with a warm glow she threw the covers off, eyes swivelling to every shadow and dashed for the leather satchel that was lying on her window seat.

"Idiot, idiot," she muttered, falling to her knees and opened the bag. The pipes where still in there and she slumped to the ground, sitting back. How she had just left them there, thinking they were useless, was beyond her. She had seen Peter use them in her world to lead her school to a cliff edge. Like the portal beans the pipes were also magically self contained and still worked in a magic-less world. She would need to hide them and so she spent the next half an hour looking around her room for the safest spot.

Before going back to bed she peeked out of her door to find Nana asleep at the threshold, snoring softly. Peter would not be able to come in, not if he wanted to get bitten. Smiling, she carefully stepped over the dog and she woke, eyeing Wendy sleepily and gave a soft woof.

"Sleep Nana, it's all right," she said and tip toed along until she reached the nursery. Inside John and Michael were sleeping peacefully. They seemed safe and Wendy closed the door softly and went back to her own bed, giving Peter's door a mistrustful glance on the way.

Even asleep he could cause mischief. He was the most exhausting person she had ever met.

* * *

The next morning, yawning and groggy, Wendy dressed and went down for breakfast to find Peter already there. He had been given one of Bae's old shirts which was a little small for him. Again she was shocked by how bizarre she found him in such ordinary clothes. He seemed to find it equally uncomfortable as he pulled on his shirt collar. For all his discomfort he gave her a bright smile.

"Good morning. I hope you slept well?" he asked politely and Wendy narrowed her eyes at him as her brothers entered the room, Nana at their heels. They paused for a moment before John marched in.

"Quite well, thank you," Wendy responded, distracted as Nana growled quietly, coming to her side. Peter's eyes flicked to the large dog and then to her brothers, who he smiled at.

"We haven't really been introduced yet, I'm -"

"We know who you are," John said, glaring at him through his spectacles. Peter stared at the younger boy across the table and slowly began to smirk.

"If you did I think you'd be a bit more civil," he said as if talking to a child of three. John practically inflated with indignation.

"Civil?! After what you've done? You should be in prison, not eating from our table!" he said through his teeth, careful not to be overheard. "You kidnapped our sister and now we have to pretend that she's in love with you?"

"I don't think there's much pretending on that front, is there Darling?" he directed at her with a cruel smile and then had to duck out of the way as John threw a teaspoon at him.

"John!" Wendy cried in warning and grabbed her brother, while her other hand was wrapped around the collar of their straining and growling dog. "Stop this instant. Have you forgotten what I asked? You promised me," she stressed, giving him a little shake and John looked down. He had no idea who he was dealing with and Wendy had no clue how much Peter would take before retaliating. She stared at him and saw with some relief that he didn't look angry. On the contrary he looked thoughtful.

"How old are you?" Peter asked, curious and John told him grudgingly.

"I'm almost twelve. Why?"

"You'd fit right in Neverland," Peter said approvingly and John paled. Wendy patted Nana, calming her and then quickly picked up the teaspoon as her parents entered the room.

"Good morning my loves..." Mary said brightly and sat at the table with her husband. They seemed oblivious to the hostile tension that hovered as they all took their seats. Nana had to be taken outside as they ate and Wendy could see Peter visibly relax as he reached for a pot of jam. Mary cleared her throat gently and clasped her hands together to give thanks. Wendy and Peter were the last to follow suit, as if they had forgotten what to do with their fingers. Wendy closed her eyes, trying to remember what to say and opened an eye to find everyone else at the table doing the same. Mary laughed, saying grace and everyone relaxed before helping themselves to toast and tea.

"How are you feeling Peter?" Mary asked, pouring tea into her cup.

"Much better thank you," he said graciously and bit into his toast. He had lathered jam on it and Wendy was amused despite herself at the naked bliss on his face when he took a bite. There wasn't much call for tea and jam in Neverland.

Her brothers were sat either side of her, like guards. John was openly glaring at Peter while Michael stared at him like he was some dangerous creature at the zoo: cautious but impressed. Wendy kicked John under the table and he took a gulp of tea but still glared at Peter over the rim of the cup. Peter happily smiled at the both of them.

"Wendy's told me so much about you, about all of you. It's like I know you already," he said cheerily and Mr Darling folded a page down of his paper.

"Wish we could say the same thing about you," he said, though not as unkindly as he could. Peter inclined his head.

"It's true but I hope to rectify that, if possible. I've never had a family so the things that Wendy told me were enlightening," he said and smiled across at her. Wendy tried to return it but it felt tight and forced.

"So what exactly happened to your family?" John asked suddenly and Wendy froze, everyone did. Peter eyed him thoughtfully before smiling.

"They died, when I was very young. I was looked after by a friend of the family."

"School?" Michael asked and Peter's eyes flicked to him.

"Eton. I was going to Cambridge this year but I wasn't well enough and, of course, I had another reason not to go," he said softly and gave her a quick smile.

"So you've spent the last couple of months with Wendy in some mansion?" John persisted. "Doing what exactly?"

"John..." Wendy warned quietly and Mary gave him a quick, sharp look and he said no more. But Mr Darling was looking between Wendy and Peter and she knew it was the burning question in his, and likely her mother's, mind. What _had_ happened through all those months? What could she possibly say that didn't end with her looking like a liar? Either way she appeared...spoiled.

"Please don't think too unfavourably on Wendy," Peter said suddenly and Wendy looked at him in surprise as he came to her rescue. "She missed you all terribly but the truth of the matter is she was in no fit state to talk to anyone. She was so upset about Baelfire and when we met she was very...despondent," he explained gently to the now introspective table.

"We knew you were upset, upset enough to run away like you had done previously," Mary agreed softly, no doubt thinking of the weeks where Wendy had been obsessed with finding Baelfire and sneaking out of the house at night until one time she did not come back.

"They thought you were raving," Michael said flatly and Wendy couldn't help laughing. She_ had_ looked mad and while she did not want her parents to think that she had spent the last few months in an attic it was a plausible explanation.

"So you were...recouping?" her father asked delicately and Wendy had to nod.

"I couldn't handle school and then I met Peter...He looked after me when he didn't have to. He – he did everything he could for me and asked for nothing in return. Though," Wendy said and smiled coyly at him, "I think you were just lonely," she said, mixing lies with truth and surprised herself yet again at how easy it was to lie and how convincing she was.

"At first, yes but then that changed..." he said and gazed at her intensely and the table shifted a little at the open look of adoration and Wendy felt herself blush. John rolled his eyes and sat back with a bored sigh.

Mary looked around the table at the awkward faces and just withheld hostility and smiled widely. "I've had a marvellous idea! It's Wendy's seventeenth birthday next week and we simply must celebrate it!"

Half the table were for it, half against. Wendy shook her head while Mr Darling laid his paper down completely, looking startled.

"Mother, you don't have to do that."

"The expense Mary."

"What are expenses compared to having your daughter back safe and well?" Mary countered with little seen heat and Mr Darling looked abashed.

"Well, of course I wasn't -"

"Mother, please," Wendy interrupted, leaning forward earnestly. "I'm grateful but father is right. You've spent far too much on me already, with the school fees," Wendy said and Mr Darling went slightly pale at being reminded. It was still a searing guilt for Wendy that her father had worked so hard to send her to such a good school and now she probably would never go back.

"Not even a small one dear? Just here, maybe in the garden if it's nice. You could invite some friends from school," Mary said encouragingly and Wendy blinked.

"Friends?" Wendy tried to recall her class mates from Roedean and felt a horrible scrabbling anxiety when she could not. She _did_ have friends there, not many but now all she could recall were faceless figures that she shared a dormitory with. She could not even remember their names. There was nothing. She thought the pipes had made a small impact on her, compared to the other boys on the island, but it was only now she realised that over time the edges of her life, those places and people that did not have a real significance, had been slowly warn away.

"Are you feeling well?" Peter asked in concern and she nodded, swallowing with difficulty.

"Y – yes, I just hadn't really thought about contacting them, to be honest."

"You should write because I know they were terribly upset about your disappearance. You could let them now you're well," Mary said and Wendy could hear a bitter edge to her mother's words. She would not say anything yet but Wendy knew the time would come when her mother would need to know why Wendy had not written to her. Mad in an attic or not she still should have thought of her parent's worry. With a horrible pit of shame burning in her stomach Wendy smiled at her mother weakly.

"Thank you mother, I think a small party would be wonderful. What...what exactly do they believe happened?"

"Well," George started, eyes rolling upwards as he recalled the past. "The authorities suspected that you had drowned, because of that funny business."

"What funny business?"

"Well we thought it was tosh at first, girls following some Pied Piper's tune to the cliff edge," he said scathingly and Peter almost choked on his tea before recovering quickly.

"How extraordinary!" he exclaimed, shaking his head in amazement. Wendy gave him a heavy lidded stare.

"That's what I said! But then the headmistress agreed with their story. Apparently the night Wendy...vacated the premises," George struggled with the wording, "they all lined up and stared out to sea before heading back to bed!"

"They suspect it was something in the water," Mary offered and Peter nodded, fascinated.

"Or a case of mass hysteria," George grunted, looking down at his paper. "All those females in one place, bound to happen." Mary tapped a teaspoon against her cup loudly, mouth pursed and glared at her husband who looked abashed again. "Sorry dearest."

Peter, who looked like he wanted to shot himself, turned to Wendy and smiled sincerely. "So it seems you were unaffected."

"So it seems..." Wendy bit viciously into her toast and Peter smirked into his teacup. She looked at her father. "So does _everyone_ think I'm missing or dead?"

"Well, the ones at the school do but here..." he trailed off and Wendy remembered what Peter had told her: her neighbours think she had run off with Baelfire. She could imagine their confusion when they hear about her return with Peter and felt a stab of annoyance at her nosy curtain twitching neighbours.

"I see..."

"However it was kept out of the papers," George said, as if to soften the blow. "The school managed to keep it hush hush, what with the war going on. They thought it would impact morale."

Wendy nodded, feeling another flare of guilt that she had completely forgotten that Britain was at war. She felt a little better to see that Peter looked just as surprised, though he hid it well. George squinted at Peter.

"I take it that's why you haven't been enlisted? Your heart?"

Peter nodded, looking shamed. "I'd be in France now if it wasn't a problem," he said, as though imagining it. Wendy tried to picture him in the trenches and could not; again it was too bizarre, too real. Peter gazed at her, cocking an eyebrow as the table quietly finished their breakfast.

"So, seventeen? Seems like I'll have to give you a gift."

Wendy smiled, trying not to make it into a wince, as she imagined what kind of thing he would consider a gift.

* * *

At the mention of presents Mary thought it would be a marvellous idea to go shopping. Wendy would need a dress and Peter would need new clothes but both were forbidden to venture to the West of London. As if the excitement of picking out cuff links and sashes would finish them both off. With her brothers at school and her father at work Wendy and Peter mostly had the house to themselves. However neither of them had any intention of staying indoors and so Wendy had convinced her mother to let her and Peter walk around the gardens across the street from their house.

"Are you sure you're strong enough?" Mary asked for the fifth time and Peter nodded, his patience growing thin. Her mother's concern was not lost on Wendy either and she had to finally be a little sharp and ask her to stop. Mary fell back as they headed for the door, mouth thin and said nothing more. She was their chaperone and Wendy knew Peter found it ridiculous, as if her presence would be enough to stop them from doing something indecent in the middle of a public garden. Not even the King of England could stop him doing that, if he wanted.

As soon as they stepped out of number 14 Wendy eyed Peter carefully, wondering how he would fair in busy London. He seemed to take everything in his stride but sometimes she caught him glaring or looking a little overwhelmed. She had seen something similar in country folk when they came to the city. Though she suspected that Peter's unnerve was more the fact that for the first time in years he was surrounded by an environment and people he had no control over. As they stopped at the entrance to the square Peter's gaze became unfocused and he stared around as if in a dream, looking up at the buildings and trees.

"It's so different."

"You've been here before?" she asked, curious despite herself. They walked towards a bench and Wendy kept an eye out for any familiar faces but then wondered if she would even remember any.

"A long time ago," he said vaguely and tore his eyes away to stare at her. "Are you going to mention the dream or not?"

Wendy had been thinking about nothing else but after her brothers had denied having the same dream she had been unsure. "So it did happen?"

"Obviously. You and your brothers weren't meant to be in it. Felix pulled you in by accident. It takes years to pin point a certain mind and exclude others close by." He stopped and gazed down at her slyly. "Where are the pipes?"

"What pipes?" she asked innocently and his mouth thinned into a smile, bemused at her subterfuge. She would not tell him a thing but she was curious about the dream.

"That cave, that's how you brought sleeping children to Neverland?"

He nodded. "Before the Lost Boys, yes."

Wendy narrowed her eyes, mistrustful. "Why would you warn them off from coming here?"

"You know why," he said and sat on a bench. Wendy gazed down at him, not knowing what to believe. His interest in her seemed real, he was out of his element and quietly suffering and she thought she knew him well enough that he would not endure that for nothing. Why she could not say or what was at the root of it. It was not love, not the love she wanted anyway. She looked away and saw her mother far down the path, distracted by a baby and Wendy smiled.

"She's a child at heart, my mother. She always says what's the point in being a grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."

"How depressing," he said and Wendy glared at him before he pulled her down to sit next to him. "I mean that there are so many people who wish that they could reclaim their youth but never really can. People like your mother would have visited Neverland once, in their dreams, and it never faded away. It clings to their eyes." He finished, lost in thought and Wendy shifted uncomfortably. How strange it was, sitting with him as if it were normal. Just two young people taking the air. It was so everyday and banal that it struck her as deeply perverse. He gazed at her, eyeing her face and gently brushed a curl away from her cheek, making her lean back.

"What are you thinking?"

"How mad this is. You do realise that the longer you spend here the higher the chance you'll turn into one of those sad people with childish eyes?"

"I don't plan to stay that long Wendy-bird," he said confidently. "I'll never grow up."

"Then why carry on with this pretence? I think I can say with some assurance that neither of us wants to marry the other," she said quickly and ignored him when he placed a hand against his chest, offended. He dropped it as his smile faded and he looked troubled.

"Of course I don't but I admit the thought of you ending up with someone else makes me want to stab that dog to death," he said flatly, eyeing a little terrier and Wendy gasped, thinking of Nana.

"Don't say such a wicked thing!"

"My apologies!" he said, but didn't look sorry at all. "My worry is unheeded because we both know you'll end up a lonely old spinster if you stay here," he said, as if to cheer himself up. At her angry face he turned to her and sighed. "I was joking, mostly. I don't want you to stay here because you could have so much more."

Wendy scoffed. "Yes, an eternity of blood thirsty boys and boredom."

"Boredom?" he said, insulted. Wendy turned to him, cocking her head.

"Come on, you must get bored. All you do is sit around and plot! At first it was...entertaining," she admitted, thinking of days swimming and throwing treasure into the sea, and he looked a little appeased. "But if you're as old as I think you must have gone mad with nothing to do, even with your followers there. Which explains a lot actually," she added.

"Only boring people are bored."

"Good god," she muttered, turning away as he laughed.

"All right, yes, I get bored. I'm over three hundred, of course I get tired of it."

"Three hundred?" Wendy asked, mouth open. She knew he was old but not that old and the knowledge did something to him, lending a weight that was not there previously.

"I know, I don't look a day over seventy do I?" he joked but quickly grew sombre. "I occupied my time, recruited and searched for the believer but there was this space, this void. I never thought it was you."

Wendy gazed into his eyes, knowing that she could give in so easily, just soak up what he was telling her and take it for the truth. But always there was a small but persistent voice that called him liar every time he opened his mouth. She could never trust him.

"Well I don't want to spend centuries being bored when I can be perfectly boring here and die at a respectful ninety," she said dryly before gazing at him hard. "If you think your sweet words to my parents will work on me then you are mistaken. I haven't forgotten what happened and what you're capable of."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," he said softly. It was something that should have sounded like a threat but was not. It was a promise. "I won't give up."

"Then you'll be waiting for a long time. You think I care about what others think of me?" she said scornfully, eyeing the people that passed them. Peter's mouth curled.

"Those people mean nothing, I agree, but your family is a different matter. You might not care but they do. You know they haven't even got enough money to support all of you? Especially with me there. Married or not you'll need to leave at some point."

Wendy fiddled with her gloves, conflicted. He was right, her parents had never been able to live as comfortably as they wished. For all her father's thriftiness he was only trying to keep his family afloat and if word got back to the bank that his daughter had been left high and dry he may find himself conveniently ignored for that promotion he so wanted. Her mother would be similarly affected, excluded from her circle of old friends who unfortunately did not share her modern mind. Peter watched her intently as she sat in thought, mouth quirked and his eyes flickering as if he could see every dark and troubled thought as they appeared.

Finally Wendy sat back, tired. "I'll get a job, support myself."

"You don't deserve a life of hard graft."

"There's nothing shameful about working hard!" she said passionately and he smiled at her.

"Of course there's not but do you think those people wouldn't jump at the chance of having a lighter life?"

"And that's with you, is it?" she wanted to laugh. He was delusional.

"If you came back with me we wouldn't be stuck on the island indefinitely. I could take you to any world you desired, show you things you never thought possible. Once the heart of the truest believer is mine nothing will be denied from us." His eyes gleamed hungrily at the thought and Wendy shied away from him, horrible thoughts coming into her mind.

"You keep mentioning this heart, what exactly do you plan to do with it?"

He gazed at her heavily, weighing what to say before he spoke. "I won't keep anything from you so I'll tell you the truth."

"That sounds ominous," she said, trying to lighten the tension because she knew nothing good was about to be said.

"I told you magic is dying and it is but you've also seen the state of my heart," he swallowed and she could imagine it feebly trying to pump blood and life through him as he spoke. "I need to trade it to live."

Wendy blinked, imagining some faceless boy offering a glowing, pulsating heart on a plater beside Peter's diseased organ. It was a sickening thought.

"So he'll die?"

"Not straight away, not if he stays in Neverland. Like I said I'm centuries old but it's withstood the years. It could take some more and that boy could live another fifty, sixty years."

Wendy blinked, feeling a flare of unease. "Is that how long you have?"

"No, I have longer then that. I know he's not born yet, that will be ninety odd years from now."

Wendy imagined what the world would be like in a hundred years time and could not. She had seen images of what people believed but she hoped that it would be even more surprising. _If I stayed with him I could live to see it_, a sly but curious thought drifted across her mind and Wendy batted it away. She hardened her resolve, Peter was talking about murder.

"So you'll take some poor boy's heart just so you can live even longer?"

Peter stared at her dead pan. "One: I'm not taking anything. The heart has to be willingly given otherwise it won't work. Two: yes I will, it's my life, no matter how long it is. Sorry if that's distasteful but I've waited all these years solely for that purpose."

As they then sat in heavy silence, eyeing people passing, Wendy realised that her mother had been watching them curiously from a distant bench. She smiled and moved closer to Peter who took her hand as a small group of soldiers passed. The majority of the boys were Peter's age, by appearance at least, and one of them winked at Wendy. She thought morbidly that in a few months time he might be dead in the mud and he knew it but still walked as if toward some great adventure.

"They're going to their deaths with a wink," she said quietly, gaze unfocused, "while you rage against it."

"They make light because they have to. Never give in without a fight Wendy," he said quietly and stood, offering her a hand up. She cocked her head up at him, smiling strangely.

"I don't plan to."

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_Wendy's birthday party next!_


	14. Chapter 14

Over the next few days Mrs Darling attempted to keep Wendy and Peter entertained and after being somewhat convinced that he would not keel over she took them on outings. Rather then spend tense day after tense day all but alone with him Wendy reasoned she would rather be tense by his proximity in public. More routes of escape. First they had walked around the National Gallery where Peter feigned boredom but was secretly impressed by what he saw. He was even more impressed when Wendy showed him the priceless painting that had been almost destroyed by an angry suffragette wielding a meat cleaver. However people stared at her and her mother nervously, as if their combined femininity would erupt into protest, something that Peter, the very personification of anarchy, would enjoy immensely so Wendy had quickly moved them along.

On another day Mary took Wendy for tea at the Ritz, an early birthday treat and then went shopping for a dress for the party. Peter had been absent, an occasion that caused her equal parts relief and worry as she wondered what trouble he was getting up to alone. But she breathed easier to finally be out of his presence. Of course once alone with her mother Wendy knew it was ample time to try to explain her silence for those months that she was gone. It proved easier then she imagined.

"I was so low mother, so cut off from the world. I – I suppose the longer I left it the harder it was to begin," she explained gutturally while her mother listened quietly. At first Mary had looked stern but the more Wendy fed her lies that she was willing to believe and softer her reproach became until she was staring at her only daughter with tears in her eyes. It made Wendy feel terrible, the dishonesty and the pretence that she had to spin out for the person she loved the most readily in the world. She realised in that moment that if she did stay in London she would have to live a life of lies. It was an exhausting prospect but Peter was right about one thing, she was becoming a master at lying.

After the teary tea at the Ritz she was taken to see Kew Gardens and this time Peter went with them. He trailed behind sullenly, whipping flowers with sticks and pulling leaves off tree branches. If she had been paying attention it would have been the first time that Mrs Darling saw something other than a sycophantic front but she was too entranced by the foliage and glass houses. It was not the gardens that Peter had a problem with, it was the supervision. He had never been so stifled in his life and while Mary was not the most stringent chaperone Wendy knew he found her presence gratingly ridiculous.

"What does she expect to happen? For us to dance naked around the begonias when her back is turned? You know they all suspect that we've done worse so I don't know why they bother following us – _me_ – around everywhere," he gritted out as they headed into the Palm House. Wendy could sympathise with his annoyance but reasoned that the world was safer with Peter Pan in watchful eyesight.

She mused as she walked around the tropical, bright glass house that as long as he remained with her the less likely he could cause trouble elsewhere. From what Felix had said Neverland was breaking free of his control, the Lost Boys reclaiming their autonomy, even the weather was probably improving. If he did return to the island it would not be business as usual, he would have a fight on his hands.

_Strange, my life would likely be easier if I went back and his would be equally so if he stayed._

* * *

Inviting friends that you hadn't seen or talked to for months was difficult but doubly so when you couldn't even remember who they were. This had been remedied when Peter, surprisingly, suggested that she select the names of the girls who had sent the most letters of condolences or want of news. Two names had jumped out of the pile, their letters making up the majority:

_Heather Bunting and Maimie Mannering._

"She likes to be called Mai for short," Wendy said as she read one of Miss Mannering's letters, pointing out the way the girl finished off her correspondence. "Whoever she is I think she was a good friend, her concern is heartfelt."

"Well you can get to know her all over again tomorrow," John said encouragingly but fell silent when Mary walked past Wendy's room with a box. She stood, anticipation swirling up from her gut but Mary wagged a finger from the doorway.

"Not until the morning. It will be a surprise," she said and swayed away, looking self satisfied. It was in times like these that Wendy could fool herself into believing that she had never left, that she had never heard of Neverland or Peter Pan but she was always proved the contrary soon after.

That night, too excited and nervous to sleep, Wendy sat on her window seat and watched the garden below, spotting the odd fox or stray cat that streaked into bushes, all seemingly shrieking and hissing in heat. The sound of a vixen crying was like a woman screaming and Wendy shivered, drawing away from the window.

As she went back to bed she hard another cry, though this clearly belonged to a boy. It had been happening for the last few nights and she had suspected that Michael or John were having night terrors but every time she approached their nursery it stopped. She opened her door, stepped over Nana and tiptoed along the corridor, about to climb the narrow stair case when she paused, head cocking. There was a low moaning coming not from above her but behind.

"Peter?" she whispered in surprise and turned, heading towards his door. She hesitated before it, holding her breath and was about to move away when she heard a muffled inhale from within, a gasp of fright. As she heard it she was suddenly struck with a memory: her first night in Neverland, now so long ago, she had heard someone crying and woke to find only Peter. She had never even considered that it may have been him. Deeply curious she turned the handle slowly, quietly opened the door and slipped inside. His room was dark and though not as lived in and furnished as hers it was comfortable. If Baelfire had stayed with them this would have been his room. Wendy leaned against the door, staring at Peter, not daring to move.

He was asleep, unaware of her presence and very clearly in the middle of a nightmare. He had half kicked the covers off and she could see that his skin was beaded with sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. She took a step towards him, like a cat approaching a thrashing mouse and stopped when he choked and gasped, as if he was drowning. She had thought that the clothes he wore and the way he had to comb his hair was bizarre but he looked so utterly alien to her like this. He was vulnerable and quite simply like a child. Moved and unable to resist she stopped at his bedside, staring at him and leaned down.

"Peter," she whispered, "Peter wake up, you're just dreaming," she frowned, wondering what Peter Pan had nightmares about and shivered at the thought. He muttered nonsense words, eyes rolling under his lids and looked in so much pain that she reached out and brushed his sweaty hair off his forehead. Peter's eyes snapped open and as quick as a snake he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. So close that their nose's bumped together they stared eye to eye, one scared the other furious.

"What are you doing?" he demanded horsely, panting.

"You were having a nightmare! I – I heard a noise, I thought it was my brothers but...but it was you," she said breathlessly, twisting her wrist in his tight grip. She was almost sitting on him, one hand braced against the wall while the other was wrapped around his restraining hold. Their breathing mingled and the longer they remained together the calmer his breathing became while hers came increasingly in quick, sharp bursts.

Peter suddenly smirked, relaxing his hand but did not let go. "I don't have nightmares," he said disdainfully, sitting back and Wendy pulled away, rubbing her wrist.

"Then it was a very unpleasant dream. What was it about?" she asked, sitting and allowed herself the time to calm down. She thought that he would not answer or deny it but he began to frown softly, looking into the distance until he shook his head slowly.

"I don't know, I never know."

"You forget?" she asked but he said nothing and Wendy gazed at him thoughtfully. There was so much about him she didn't know and possibly so much that even he had forgotten. There was a Peter before Neverland, a boy who was untouched by it all and she knew that it must haunt him.

"Peter, do the pipes work on you as you play them?"

"What?"

"Well if you're playing them then you must be wiping away your past too. Maybe that's why you can't remember what you dream about," she ventured and he smiled at her, bemused.

"You could be right and you know if you gave them back to me we could find out for sure."

"_Again_ I have no idea what you're talking about," she said airily which made him grin. He sighed, leaning back comfortably and reached out to play with a long tendril of her hair. It wasn't the first time he had done it and, annoyed, Wendy leaned close to him and ran her fingers roughly through his hair, making him wince.

"Get off."

"Not nice is it? I'm not something to be fondled with," she said primly and he gazed at her, cocking an eyebrow.

"Fondle away..." he offered, lips curling and Wendy's mouth pursed. "We're meant to be betrothed but we haven't even kissed since being here."

"What on earth makes you think I'd want to kiss you again?"

"Well if anyone should be adverse to kisses it's me. Stick out your tongue," he demanded playfully, sitting up, and she did it. "No ink, that's an improvement. It's decided, I shall give you a kiss."

"You will not," she said firmly and scrabbled to her feet but he grabbed her arm, rising with her. She inhaled, about to scream and damn the silly plot all together when he suddenly lifted his hand and dangled something shiny before her face. Wendy blinked, trying to focus in the dim light and then realised what he was showing her. A pendant.

"Happy birthday," he said and Wendy could hear the grandfather clock chiming quietly downstairs. If she hadn't been slightly overwhelmed she would have wondered if he hadn't conducted the whole thing, from the cries in his sleep to Wendy sitting on his bed. Wendy lifted her hand and gently touched the silver trinket, frowning.

"A thimble? This is your kiss?"

"You don't remember or don't realise. The first time you tried to kiss me you left a thimble in my lap before you dashed out of the door."

"So you did know what it was!" she cried, vindicated and he smirked before his features softened and he slowly lowered the chain and thimble onto her palm and closed her fingers over it.

"It was then I realised something I had been denying," he said, gazing at her intensely and Wendy was captivated.

"What?"

"That you were mine," he admitted, brushing the back of his fingers very softly down her cheek. Wendy blinked. Of course he would not say love, not even now. For someone who loved too much she could recognise someone who could not love enough. Wendy had thought he was denying what they meant to each other. If fate and destiny ordained that two people were destined to love each other then that would be it, it was decided. No doubts and no denials but the truth was much more unruly. How could someone who did not have the capacity to love show it even if they wanted to? Was this the best he could do? Was this all she could hope for if she retuned with him?

"You won't say love because then you would have to give something of yourself in return," she thought out loud sadly, resigned and he blinked rapidly.

"What do you think I'm doing now? What do you think I've been doing every second I've stayed here?" he frowned heavily at her, not comprehending.

"You're doing this to win, I don't think you know any other way. If you knew love, truly knew it, you would not need to resort to this. If you were open and honest, if you proved that this, that _I_ actually meant anything to you other than as a possession," she said, dangling the thimble, "I would consider...consider..." she trailed off, unable to admit that her resolve was wavering but Peter's eyes flashed lightning quick with victory.

"I will always be honest with you, that's what I've been striving to do. I've told you my ghoulish plot and my plans for the future, for both of us. What else is there?"

It was simple really and she smiled strangely. "I want your heart."

Peter matched her smile and took her hand. "Then I'm sorry, I've been told I don't have one and if I did it would be of no use to you"

"Maybe..." she whispered, not daring to hope that it could change. She did not want to give into a foolish, childish dream that he could be different because even if he could that would not wipe away the acts that he had committed or made others do on his behalf. It would be selfish and she would have to throw away any self respect she owned. But could she really fight fate, even one as dark and twisted as this?

"My Wendy-bird," he sighed and took the chain and placed it over her head, before sliding his hand around the back of her neck and pulling her hair free. The thimble rested against her chest, steadily rising and falling as he kept his fingers against her neck, his thumb brushing over her pulse. They stared at each other as if hypnotised and as he pulled her closer Wendy felt her resolve cracking like glass. She closed her eyes, waiting.

"Wendy? Where are you?" Michael called sleepily and Wendy jumped back from Peter, her hair trailing through his clutching fingers.

"Damn!" she swore quietly and Peter chuckled, rubbing a hand through his messy hair with a groan. Ignoring him she moved to the door and peeked out. Michael was clutching his bear, blinking sleepily and Wendy made to move towards him but in that moment their mother appeared. They stared at each other in shock, one surprised to see their daughter coming out of her betrothal's bedroom in the middle of the night and other shocked at being caught doing so.

"Mother, I can explain," she started, moving away from the door as if it burned but Mary shook her head, lips thin, and took Michael's hand.

"Goodnight Wendy," she answered stiffly and then watched as her daughter shuffled guiltily back to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Once inside Wendy flung herself onto her bed with a groan and then kicked and hit the mattress below with her heels and fists in frustration. Again she did not consider then whether being caught had been an accident or something planned on a conniving wish and hope.

* * *

Wendy stood before the mirror, turning occasionally to see what the dress was like from the back and sides. It was a pale red, made from velvet and satin with lace at the neck and wrists. It even daringly showed a little of her back while a pink satin sash clinched in her waist. It was beautifully elegant, something that proclaimed her no longer a child but a woman. She was surprised at the transformation. Over a year ago she would have refused to wear such a thing but now it seemed perfectly acceptable because now she actually felt like a grown up. How could she not after what she had experienced? With her hair gathered at the nape of her neck and she brushed her fingers over a few loose curls that framed her face before inhaling and holding it. After being caught coming out of Peter's room the night before her mother had acted primly towards her at breakfast and once they were alone she sat Wendy down and talked.

"I would never dream of making choices for you," she began before Wendy could speak. "But I would not see you hurt. What I witnessed last night will be between us, Michael was too young and tired to realise what he had seen."

"He saw nothing mother," Wendy said desperately but Mary clenched her jaw and stared at her daughter in confusion.

"But _I_ did, you can't deny that. Now I think I have raised you with a freedom that most girls you know do not have but I will not tolerate certain...inappropriateness under this roof," she said sternly and Wendy was reminded of her aunt, her mother's sister, who was the very antitheses of Mary. She knew then that her mother must be very worried for her indeed.

"You have nothing to be concerned with mother. He was having a nightmare and I wanted to see if he was all right. That's it," she stressed sincerely and Mary gazed at her hard, as if she was inspecting Wendy's mind like someone looking at a sheet for marks. Finally she leaned back, apparently satisfied with her daughter's honesty and smiled.

"Good! Now enough of this terribly serious business! We have a party to set up!"

And so they did. For the next few hours the Darling household rushed around getting the parlour and garden organised. Wendy had sent out invites numbering eleven while some of her mother's friends and few choice neighbours had been asked to attend. Even a photographer was coming, curtsey of her father. It was hectic but Wendy was glad for the distraction because it meant that she had an excuse to avoid Peter.

She had been truthful with her mother, nothing had happened but Wendy knew that something _could_ have, it was just a matter of timing. Since sitting across from him at breakfast Peter had acted like nothing had happened, being as polite and charming as ever in front of her parents but sometimes she caught him gazing at her with something she had seen only once, a hot hunger that bordered on lust. It was as if he had been given a taste of something, an opportunity and now he wanted more. She was almost relieved. Urges of the body and longing was something that most boys – and girls – of her age experienced and if he did then that made him closer to being human. However it placed her in a pernicious situation.

The chain around her neck seemed to burn and the thimble, now hidden under her dress, was a constant reminder of him and she forced herself to stop touching it. As the clock chimed five times Wendy steeled herself, lifted her chin and practised a smile in the mirror. It was convincing and she would try her best to have a good time, Peter or no Peter. Below was only a little less disordered then before but she could see Liza dashing in and out of rooms, laying out glasses or shooing Nana into her kennel in the garden. She had worked hard and Wendy made note that she would have to thank her afterwards as the doorbell rang and the first guests arrived.

Mr Darling rounded on his family, stressed but forcefully cheery. "Right then, into the fray! Wendy, we've told Aunt M that Peter is your betrothed so keep that in mind precious," he said as Wendy gaped at him in alarm and his features softened. "You look wonderful. You're not a child any more," he said wistfully and Wendy's disdain was tempered. She kissed him on the cheek and then did the same to her mother, who looked just as lovely as she did.

Wendy greeted the guests as they arrived, mostly family and a few old friends but she was concerned to note that not many were arriving and even the ones that were did not greet them with the usual cheerfulness. They stared at her like something strange in a cage and occasionally she could feel their eyes on her as if they expected her to do something shocking, like vanish with a puff of smoke. The room practically held it's breath when Peter finally appeared wearing a suit and, Wendy admitted, looking very handsome. Wendy briefly wondered where he had been when he froze across from her, staring. He looked her up and down and she blushed and in that moment there was no one else in the room, just them.

"You look...different," he said, squinting an eye and Wendy was offended and disappointed.

"Different? I see..." she made to leave but he brushed her arm with his fingers and laughed.

"I'm joking. You look beautiful, so grown up," he admitted and she couldn't be sure if he liked that or not. But as he gazed at her a lusty spark gleamed in his eye and she found it hard to breathe in.

"Don't look at me like that," she whispered, looking around the room swiftly and he grinned in his wicked way.

"Like what? This is quite fun really, I thought it would be mind numbingly boring but I rather like pretending I'm your future husband. Imagine their ill disguised excitement when they learn the truth! Poor Wendy left at the alter!" he said giddily and stared into the garden where a few people were sitting and talking. At least she knew what he would do if their charade reached that far. He was was a terribly nasty person but there was a tiny part of her that was darkly amused. He bent down and spoke into her ear. "I'm sure there's a part of you that's floating on a cloud right now," he whispered and she could not guess if he realised how cruel he was, maybe it came to him as naturally as breathing.

Wendy stared as her family and neighbours smiled at her and greeted Peter politely and she had to concede with him. This was something she dreamed of in the deepest, most hidden place of her heart, a place where she envisioned Peter by her side. All of it seemed perfect but in reality it had been turned into a perverted version of her dearest wish. Now it was a mockery and Wendy knew in that moment her wished for life would never happen while she lived.

As the party progressed she drifted around, standing quietly as people talked but she did not really hear them. She didn't have to, she could see their veiled and ill disguised thoughts and questions:

_What scandal happened? What sort of person was she now? Was she truly fallen? How could her family take her back in? She must be a bad influence over her brothers, look how they run around. She must be forcing this poor boy into marrying her. Didn't she run away with another boy who also used to live here? _

And on and on. That people would come to satisfy their curiosity was not lost on Wendy and as the minutes ticked by she felt a rolling anger beginning to boil in her stomach. They smiled and drank, all welcomed guests but all the while they scavenged for gossip and scandal in little huddles. Wendy's mood was not improved when finally some of the people she had invited turned up. She thought she would not care if no one she invited turned up but she couldn't deny that she was hurt by the turn out: only two.

She saw them approaching as she sat with Nana in the garden, Peter keeping his annoyed distance and tried desperately to recall them. One was tall and thin with shinning blonde hair while the other was short and plump with flaming red hair that curled around her head. At the sight of her the red head called her name and ran to her, arms out stretched and Wendy felt a pang and knew that this must be Mai Mannering.

"Wendy!" she cried and almost toppled them over as she reached her and gave Wendy the biggest hug. It was like being embraced by a large, particularly affectionate hamster.

"Hello Mai, it's so good to see you again," and it was because now Wendy could recall her somewhat, just glimpses and flickers. The spirited Mai stepped back and the blonde girl smiled at Wendy. It did not reach her eyes.

"It's nice to know that you're still living," she said in a bored tone and Wendy was struck with how much she was like Felix. They were prefect for each other and it made her want to laugh. At Wendy's twitching lips the blonde narrowed her eyes. "Something amusing?"

"No, it's just nice to see you again Heather."

"I'm sure. They say that you are to be married?" she asked delicately but Wendy could see a spark of greedy curiosity and she had a sinking feeling. Heather was not there for Wendy, she was there to gather information and report back. Well if that was her mission then Wendy would give her something juicy to go back with and send the school into a tizzy.

"Yes, it's a spring wedding and the baby is due in the summer. I thought about waiting but I think expecting brides look just splendid in white. Don't you agree?"

Heather smiled at her sorely while Mai giggled behind her hand. Unimpressed, Heather floated away, looking around the garden disdainfully. Mai laughed out loud when she was gone and Wendy shook her head, smiling weakly, knowing that if Peter were there he would have been immensely proud.

"I don't know why you invited her! She's the absolute worst and the biggest snob in the school. The train ride here was not the most pleasant of experiences," Mai joked but looked strained and Wendy was guilty again but also angry at Peter. He _would_ make her invite a bully.

"I'm sorry. I – uh, well," she may as well tell her the truth, or at least some of it. "The truth of the matter is I experienced a...situation and now I'm afraid I can't recall much of the past," she confessed and Mai blinked.

"You don't remember me?" she asked, clearly hurt.

"Only a little, I'm sorry," she said quickly and felt ashamed. Mai smiled bravely and shrugged but Wendy could tell she was shaken.

"Oh well, we can get to know each other again! So then, who is Peter and why did you not tell me about him?" she asked, mock offended, and Wendy drew her into the garden to find a more private seat. She told Mai a fiction that was woven with truth and the forgotten friend lapped it up. Peter had advised against her having a job but Wendy was sure her career lay in acting. Speaking of she looked around the garden but could not see him.

"I'll introduce you to him," Wendy said bravely and rose, looking for him. He was not in the garden or in the parlour. The adults inside were getting steadily drunk, with Mr Darling leading the race, and she quickly ducked out of sight into the hallway. Upstairs was dark but she ascended them, a funny feeling in her stomach that pushed her on.

"Wendy! The photographer is here!" her mother cried out happily and Wendy turned on the stair, not wanting to go back down but she forced herself to, casting suspicious glances back over her shoulder. When she arrived she saw that her suspicious were for nothing because Peter was beside her parents, laughing heartily. He waved her over and she went with heavy feet.

"There you are," he said and took her hand and pulled her to him. "We should have more of these, I prefer your father drunk, much more fun," he proclaimed and Wendy closed her eyes and asked god to give her strength. If her father got too intoxicated she knew the gossip hounds would add it as more fuel to the fire. She would need to draw their prying eyes back to her.

"Oh a photographer!" she cried rapturously, clasping her hands as she looked at the camera equipment now being set up in the garden. "Thank you father, it's the most wonderful present!" she said and meant it. It must have cost him a fortune and for all his bluster she knew he thought it was worth every penny. He did not strive and bread win for himself, he never had.

"You're welcome my dear, anything for you, for all of you. My children are without parallel!" he boasted proudly and the people gathered looked touched. Wendy turned to Peter.

"Have you ever had your picture taken?" she asked quietly, leading him out into the misty garden as he shook his head. It was now illuminated by candles and was a strangely enchanting sight.

"No," he admitted truthfully and they sat and for just that moment, just before the bulb exploded and glass shattered Wendy pretended that it was all real. That was why after more than a century later if you looked at the picture you would see that her smile was genuine. Maybe Peter pretended too because he was not looking at the camera, he was looking at her and there was a small smile of wonder on his lips. It was the only bit of proof that Peter was ever there. But after the light flashed and the cloud of billowing smoke cleared it was back to reality and Wendy blinked spots out of her eyes to find Peter gone. She half rose, concerned but sat back down when her family gathered around her to have their picture taken.

As the night darkened and neighbours complained that they were producing too much noise and light – an easy target for the Germans don't you know – Wendy finally found herself alone. She was exhausted, having to smile and pretend and lie took so much effort and she just wanted to go to bed. _Or get drunk_, she considered as she watched people dance merrily to music. She searched for Peter again, frowning. It was as if he did not want the others to see him or maybe it was having so many adults in one place that repelled him. Or maybe he was using their presence as an excuse to cause trouble and not be missed.

Wendy kicked off her shoes and picked them up before stepping up the staircase silently, careful to avoid squeaky boards that would give her away. First she looked in Peter's room and found it empty and then poked her head into the nursery. Nothing. Finally she went back down, towards her room. The pipes were not in there so she did not feel too concerned when she walked in and found Peter looking under her bed. Wendy cocked an eyebrow and sighed.

"Please give me more credit then that. That's such an obvious place to hide something," she said in exasperation and neatly placed her shoes down as he sprang to his feet.

"Never overlook something because it's obvious," he said breezily and continued searching.

"So you're just going to continue as I stand here?"

"Yes, seeing as you're determined to be as unhelpful as possible," he said and opened a box of trinkets and odd ends. Wendy was tired and fed up and she wanted him gone. She would have to prove to him that what he wanted was not there.

"Look," she said stridently and reached behind her headboard and removed the satchel. "It's not in here."

"I know it's not," he said dismissively. "I would love to continue this game but I got word from Felix and I really need those pipes Wendy."

Wendy tutted in annoyance. "I broke them."

"Liar," he said, flashing a smile at her but then focused on the bag in her hands like he had never seen it before now. "What else is in there? Show me," he demanded and Wendy ruffled at his tone but then shrugged. There was nothing in it now, certainly not the pipes.

"Fine," she said and opened the bag and tipped it upside down and gave it a good shake. As she did something fell out and landed by her feet, causing her to blink. She stared down, not comprehending but then did in a split second as Peter sprang at her.

_Pixie Dust._

Wendy snatched the bottle up as he collided with her and they hit the wall. Wendy, startled and confused, gave a silent thanks that she lived with brothers and hit Peter low down, making him gasp. It was enough for her to get away but then he grabbed her arm and in the struggle they fell to the floor.

"Give it to me!" he grunted as they scrabbled for dominance, Peter trying to grab her wavering hand.

"No!" in the second she had glanced the dust had looked dull and lifeless, more like green ash than pixie dust but if he was willing to fight her for them they must be vital and that probably spelled doom for someone. He must never get them.

On the floor they fought silently, Wendy pushing him away and getting to her knees only for him to pull her back. They rolled and the lovely dress that Wendy adored twisted around her legs, making it hard for her to move when he suddenly ended up on top of her. She froze, staring up at him and in one unthinking moment she slipped the small phial down the front of her dress. Peter blinked and then lifted himself up on his hands and stared down at her with a strange half smile, amused at her nerve. They were both panting for breath, flushed and hypersensitive. Wendy could feel his hips digging into her, his legs wrapped around hers awkwardly and his warm weight against her was thrilling and oddly satisfying. Wendy was frozen with a heady mix of fear and arousal, almost choked with anticipation, unable to blink. She bucked under him when he moved slightly, adjusting his hands, and the rolling of her hips caused him to suck in a breath and Wendy flushed even more. If someone had the ability to see she would not look like a human but a beacon of flame, burning and unquenched. Peter's eyes travelled lazily from her face, along her neck and then down to her chest and the gaze caused her stomach to erupt with something giddy and hot. She could feel the bottle, it was trapped by her sash from going down any further and was now lying against her waist. Peter saw it and looked back up at her.

"Pete -" she managed to get out before he lowered down on her and she gasped, eyes wide as he leaned down and nuzzled her throat, making her neck arch at the contact. His lips pressed against her skin and she could hardly breathe, as if the core of her, that part that's now fully alive and burning, was twisting her all up and just waiting for the right word to let go. Her chest was heaving, breasts swelling up against his chest and he lowered his mouth further. The graze of his hand against her stomach made her jerk again and he groaned as he slipped two fingers under her sash and tugged roughly.

She made a noise that she was not even aware she could, something akin to that vixen she sometimes heard in the park and in that moment she did not care. She unballed her fists from the rug under them and gripped his shoulders, half pushing and pulling as he leaned up and hovered inches from her face. Peter brushed his lips close to hers but never touched and she craned her head up, wanting more but backed away when he leaned down, their attraction seemingly acting as a repelling force. Frustrated he removed his fingers from under the sash and quickly reached down and tugged on her dress. The bottle was now against her thigh and she could feel it slipping lower, guided by his hand. Legs now free of her skirts she gasped when he pushed a hand under them, fingers skimming her skin, and quick as lighting grabbed the bottle by her knee. Wendy, more aroused then she had ever been in her life, pushed against him as he withdrew his hand. She did not know what she wanted to do, kiss or hit him or both and she would never know as a noise made both of them freeze.

" - kicked out of my own party, I'm not - not drunk. It was just a little tipple," Mr Darling slurred and Wendy's heart stopped. She craned her neck and saw that the door was ajar but the room was dark. Maybe he would not notice. They both kept perfectly still as Mr Darling passed and Wendy watched with horror as he glanced at them, froze and then looked back. He blinked and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he was seeing things and then stumbled. "Lie down, yes, that's the ticket..." shaking his head but looking troubled George walked on and Wendy let out a great sigh of relief and but then became acutely aware that Peter was still on top of her.

"Off, get off," she said but he was already jumping to his feet and Wendy leaned up on her elbows, not wanting to admit that she was feeling completely dissatisfied. She did not know what she wanted, not exactly, but she knew that it could not happen. Peter gazed down at her strangely, chest rising and falling fast and the bottle was tightly held in his fist. He opened his mouth, as if to make some witty, cruel comment but then closed it, looking flustered and needy and suddenly Wendy was left alone on the floor as he escaped from the room.

"Wendy..?" a voice said a few seconds later and Wendy looked up to see Mai and Heather staring down at her from the doorway. "We wanted to check..." she trailed off, eyebrows rising into her curly hair line at the state of Wendy. She was a flushed mess, her dress now around her knees and Heather looked back to where they must have passed Peter.

"Well, I suppose we should leave you to your rest. You seem to need it. Happy Birthday Wendy," Heather said with relish and left, leaving Mai who came in and helped Wendy to her feet. She looked confused and concerned.

"Are you all right?"

"Where's Peter?" Wendy asked, suddenly remembering why they had ended up on the floor in the first place.

"He – he ran passed us on the stairs, nearly knocked Heather down," she reported happily and then jumped back when Wendy slipped her shoes back on and ran out of the bedroom. Right now her respectable life in London was over. In the morning her father would share with Mrs Darling the funny thing he saw in Wendy's bedroom, mistaking it for a dream only for it to be confirmed by Mrs Darling. There was no way Wendy could avoid marrying then, it was either that or leave and she knew that only one option was open to her because her betrothal was a complete fallacy.

Running out of the open front door Wendy ignored the cries from those within and dashed along the street and saw with a mixture of relief and worry that Peter was waiting for her. He smiled, as if she had proved something to him and she hated it.

"You could have stayed there, your parents would have understood eventually. But you came to me."

"Don't be so arrogant and don't pretend that isn't what you've wanted all along. I'm only here to stop whatever you're doing with those," she said, pointing at the bottle in his hand. "What use are they here?"

"Let me show you," he said and surprised Wendy by offering the dust back. "I'm not doing anything dastardly with them. I need to trade them for information but the way I got them was...underhanded. I'm sorry," he admitted, gazing at her now loose sash and Wendy grew red again. It _had _been underhanded and yet a part of her yearned for more. Wondering how he had corrupted her in such an undignified and unexpected way she took the offered bottle and slipped it under the sash, after tying it tight again.

"If you are lying I will scatter them to the wind," she said firmly and he nodded, offering her a hand with a gentlemanly air, as if they hadn't been rolling around shamelessly a few minutes ago. Wendy brushed passed him and he chuckled behind her but she inhaled sharply when he reached for her hand and took it anyway.

"You've shown me your city, let me show you the London I know," he said and, smiling slyly, lead her away from Bloomsbury Square. She was never to return and if she knew she would have taken one last look but she did not.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_*phew* that was a long chapter but I hope you enjoyed it! I'm heading toward the last stretch now..._

_Again thanks for the reviews!_


	15. Chapter 15

Wendy had been told that there were thin spots in the world, places where magic had touched it and never faded but she was soon to find out that there were people like that too. Heading towards Holborn the streets were dark and quiet and the sky above was clear and calm. Wendy looked up every now and then. She knew that Zeppelins liked to attack on nights like these, though she had never experienced such a thing. It was one missed event due to being in Neverland that she was grateful for.

"I told you that this world had been magical once and I was telling the truth," Peter explained as they headed down a narrow street, Wendy's heels clacking on the cobbles. "The magic disappeared and the fairies and other creatures moved on but some remained. The people I'm taking you to are some of those left overs."

"And how do you know them?" she ventured as he helped her up a steep step. After leaving the house he had been particularly courteous and Wendy felt almost shy to take his hand. His touch sent a tingle through her but she tried to ignore it. Peter did not respond to her question as he stopped, looking confused.

"Hmm, last time I was here there used to be a river here and a market," he looked up and down the road as the sound of a train passing underground rumbled around them.

"Oh yes, the Fleet River was covered up, because of the underground. But that was years and years ago..." she remembered and eyed him curiously as he shrugged and took her hand again.

"This way," he lead her across the road and towards a row of dilapidated old houses and shops. This was a poor area of London, one that Wendy did not have much knowledge of even though she lived so close. It was a different world. Peter came to a door with an elaborate but tarnished knocker and knocked. Almost immediately the door was answered by two women, both peering at them happily, as if they knew they were coming.

"Hello again," they said to Peter and he gave them a mock bow and they tittered. Wendy gazed at them wonderingly. They did not look magical, not even a little but they did seem to emit a certain oddness that surrounds the sort of people that do not get out much. They ushered her and Peter in and closed the door behind them.

The room beyond was small and cluttered but not messy, everything was piled in neat rows or stored in boxes or baskets but the thing that drew Wendy's eye was the two large spinning wheels in the middle of the room. The sisters – for surely they were - took their seats at the wheels, a fire at their backs and smiled up at them.

"I take it," one started.

"You have something worth trading this time?" the other finished smoothly and Peter nodded. Wendy narrowed her eyes, now convinced that he had been off doing his own shady business when they were apart. He turned to her, eyebrows raised and Wendy remembered the pixie dust. She hesitated giving it to him but stared at the spinster sisters carefully.

"What will you do with them?"

"Use them," they both laughed kindly.

"But they're useless, look," she showed them the bottle of dull dust but she may as well have offered them a gourmet buffet by the greedy looks that came over them.

"It's been so long. Look, there's still a sparkle left," one of the sisters cooed while the other nodded. They rose as one and went to Wendy and held out their hands like children waiting for sweets. Wendy looked at Peter who was clearly enjoying her discomfort but relented when she did not move.

"They're seers, Wendy. They can tell me what the future holds."

"We are a shadow of our former selves," the one with white hair said with a humble sadness and the other nodded.

"There were three of us once..." the taller sister trailed off, looking morose and though Wendy could not tell what manner of creature they were the pain and loss in their eyes was nothing but human. She felt no malice in them, no ill will and so handed the bottle over and watched what would happen curiously.

They huddled around, heads bent together and uncorked the bottle and sprinkled the dust into the their palms. Then they each took a pinch and snorted the dust like it was no more then snuff. Shocked, Wendy watched as their heads fell back and clear looks of bliss settled on their faces. As one they separated and took to their spinning wheels and Peter stood before them, hands on his hips, looking at each with a clear desperate hunger.

"What do you see?"

"Got to be more specific dear. Agnes, the Wedgwood," the older sister added strangely and the other sister reached for a blue vase and carefully stored it under a table near by.

"Fine. What will happen if I return to Neverland?"

"Insurrection. Death," they said as one and they began to spin, their eyes unfocused and glossy.

"For who?"

"Poor little boys, you've turned them into such terrors," the younger sister said sadly and Peter looked bored.

"Yes, yes but what of the Heart of the Truest Believer? Will – will I live to see him?" he asked and his voice caught and Wendy stared at him. The seers said nothing for some time, both cocking their heads and conferring in whispers before separating. The eldest spoke first.

"Two paths await you: first takes you back to Neverland, to death but also victory. He will come and you'll be there to greet him. You will have his heart if he truly believes," she said and Peter grinned, ecstatic, but the sisters carried on like they could not see them. "However you will be cursed even worse the you are now. All magic comes with a price. Agnes, the cacti," she finished in the same dreamy tone of voice and the other sister gathered a few plants and stored them under the table too. Once back in her seat she sighed.

"The other path, Peter Pan, will be your salvation," she said quietly and Peter stilled. "For centuries your heart has become black and corrupt, polluted by your own selfishness and hunger for power. Neverland was cursed before you ever stepped foot there and can only be truly governed by someone with a pure, childish heart. That was you once but no more. The candle sticks Edith?"

"No, they'll just topple a bit," she responded and Wendy wondered if they were mad but what Edith said next changed her life. "Peter, this is the land of your birth and here you will live as you were meant to. Your heart will be purified here, cleansed. The sand in the hour glass has stopped, your life is not tempered by magic here. Even now your heart is shinning, the darkness retreating -"

"Though not completely," Agnes interrupted, spinning quickly. "Some spots can never be removed. But yes, here you will grow, learn to love and die. We told you, long, long ago that you would find her and here she is," she said happily, moving her glassy eyes to Wendy who looked stunned.

"You know who I am?"

"Of course. One True Loves are a rare thing in this world. Sadly it's your hard luck to be paired with such a stone hearted monster," Edith said distastefully and Peter snorted.

"But If – if he stays here he will be free of Neverland? He won't have to take another's heart?" Wendy asked, shaking.

"Yes. Now that you and your shadow are reattached you are more complete, more whole but there's still something, something that is snagging you back like a coat hooked on a nail," she said in confusion as Peter shook his head slowly. Wendy had been so entranced by what they were saying that she had not looked at Peter and what she saw made her wish she hadn't dared. It was the most monstrous expression she had ever seen.

"Lies," he hissed out, shaking with rage but the sisters kept on spinning, unconcerned. Incensed by their non reaction he suddenly shot forward and drew his dagger. Wendy gasped as he stuck it under the chin of the oldest sister who looked at him calmly and carried on spinning.

"We have no capacity to lie, as you'll have no capacity to love if you return. We see your fear and your hate but you could be free of both if you took her hand and stayed," they said together and Wendy could not look away from his blazing face. He looked like he was about to explode as he stepped back, withdrawing his weapon. So often she had seen his careless calm or his giddy, cruel joy but never this.

"Nothing will trap me, not you and certainly not her! Live and die here? Are you insane? After everything I've done?! You've obviously gone senile in your old age!" he shouted, striding up and down like a lion and Wendy was stuck to the spot. The spinsters carried on spinning, oblivious to his fury.

"Go back to Neverland and be cursed worse then ever or love, live and die here. We have told you what we see, take it or leave it," they said together with flat indifference.

"When I get back, when I rip my shadow away again I'll come back here and set fire to this place and make sure you're still inside when I do! I'll dance!"

"No you won't," they said, bemused and Peter growled at them. "Go, make your decision but be warned if you do take the Heart of the Truest Believer you'll be the most wretched creature alive. Make the right choice Peter. The snuff boxes, quick," they finished together and snatched up a few silver containers off tables beside them and not a minute too late. Peter grinned at them, eyes like stones and then kicked over the tables and threw things off shelves, completely out of control. Wendy moved back to the wall as he destroyed what was in front of him and then stormed out. The spinsters sighed and went about restoring their things and Wendy moved to help them.

"I'm sorry, he's a horrible person," she confided as she placed a chipped plate back on a shelf. The sisters rescued the priceless and precious possessions from under the table and stood.

"He was a lovely little baby though, wasn't he Edith?"

"Oh yes, like a little angel," she agreed and Wendy cocked her head in wonder.

"Well he's certainly something of the contrary now. Are you sure this isn't a mistake? About me and him?" she knew what the answer would be but still felt conflicted when they nodded. "I can't do it, I can't be what he wants and he can't be what _I_ want. He – he can't love and I don't understand why." His heart was black but even the most depraved of monsters still confessed to loving something or someone.

"Yes, it's the riddle of his existence for many."

"He wasn't always like that, of course, before Neverland."

"You knew him?" Wendy asked, intrigued.

"Hmm? Oh yes but that was before," Agnes said and then gazed at Wendy strangely. "That was your dust, wasn't it? The fairy gave it to you."

"Well, I suppose it was," truthfully she half suspected that Peter had just planted it in the bag so he had an excuse to wrestle her to the ground and then be conveniently found by her father. But if she thought like that she would never stop.

"Before the dust wares off we could tell you things, if you like?" They stood before her, brooms held in their hands and Wendy stared between them. Did she want to know? After so long stumbling around in the dark where Peter always seemed to be two steps ahead it would be nice to have some foresight.

"What do you see?"

"Well as we told Peter you could have a life together. Not a smooth one, no, but a life of love eventually. You never marry."

"Girls, all girls. It happens to some women, only baby girls."

"Wh – what?" Wendy asked, amazed and breathless but they had moved on.

"An actress in your spare time, a house filled with orphans...he's doing...no, can't catch it," Edith said, concentrating hard. The dust was wearing off. "You stay here you live and die an old woman but you go with him you – you..." she squinted, trying to see.

"You become an old girl, yes a very old girl," Agnes said, tilting her head. "Cunning as him, as ruthless but still with a heart. Try to convince him to stay dear, it'll be better for you," she said softly while her sister nodded.

Wendy looked between them, not knowing what to think but a doubt gnawed at her. "Peter told me that magic died here and that it would continue to happen in other worlds. He says that if he takes the heart he'll live but also save magic. Is he telling the truth?"

"Yes but he's forgotten the facts. The kind of magic he wants to practise can only be truly accomplished with a selfless act."

"Sacrifice and blood," Agnes agreed, placing the vase back on it's plinth. "He knew that once but he's too consumed with himself to accept it."

"He's frightened," Edith said sadly. "But we were talking about you dear," she said suddenly, rounding on Wendy who jumped. The sisters looked at her intensely and spoke as one.

"You might see many worlds after this night, rule like a queen by his side but still a bird in a cage for all that. He'll love you, in his way but never as he can here. The ones closest to you will try to kill you with kindness so keep the water close by. Watch out for the enemy, they'll strike unseen. Take shelter," they said and then disappeared through a door and Wendy heard them descending some steps. She was utterly confused by their ramblings.

"What do you mean? Who will try to kill me? What enemy?"

"Have you forgotten we're at war? Take to the ground, quick girl and get rid of that dagger he carries while you're at it."

"You have our condolences," one of them added, almost indistinguishable and Wendy frowned.

"What do you mean?"

But they did not answer. Half wanting to follow them and get more answers Wendy left and went looking for Peter, watching the narrow strip of sky through the houses nervously as she ran.

* * *

She found him sitting on some steps outside a dark pub, the dagger the sisters had mentioned in his hand. He was twirling the point absent-mindedly around in the dirt but she could tell he must have been stabbing it furiously before she arrived. Gingerly she took a seat next to him.

"Well, they were strange," she started and he snorted softly, still looking down. By Wendy's feet a grate was gurgling, a sewer she thought. Her mind went back to what she had heard, about babies and keeping water close and she gazed at Peter thoughtfully, waiting for him to speak.

"On Neverland there's an hourglass," he began, still not looking at her. "It was a little thing, just ordinary and overlooked but the sand would pour and pour without ever running out. Over time the glass got bigger and there was not enough sand to fill it but it still went on pouring. It was my life pouring away, counting down the seconds until my death," he spoke softly but his eyes shone with a horrible light. He looked damaged.

"That sounds...cruel," she said, imagining how scared she would have been to find such a thing and work out what it meant. "And you were all alone," she thought aloud sadly and he nodded.

"I hated it at first, still do, but it gave me purpose. I have to succeed Wendy, I have to win because otherwise my life has been a complete waste," he confessed, finally looking at her and Wendy suspected this was the first time he had voiced this aloud. He couldn't tell Felix or any of the boys, he would look weak if he did.

"It doesn't have to be," she answered softly, moving closer to him. "You heard what they said. Here there is no hourglass or sand hanging over your head. Here you can live and be free," she had thought that Peter had trapped everyone on the island but she now saw that he was as much a prisoner as them, if not more so.

Peter smiled sadly at her. "This whole world is an hourglass Wendy. I know what you want, I can see it on your face but I can't," he said and touched her cheek gently.

"Why? Peter if you stay here you wouldn't have to trade hearts! You'll get better and, and..." she struggled to say more and he smiled at her, more like his old self.

"And what? Stay here with you? What else did they tell you?"

Wendy flushed and looked down but he lifted her chin and she stared at him sadly. "Just a silly dream," she said and he gazed at her intensely. She could tell him what they had said but why? It meant fighting for him, fighting for a future that she had no clue if she even truly wanted. That he could grow to love was a desire that almost caused her to bleed with want but he was so stubborn, so selfish and narcissistic that she could not even imagine an alternative.

"I considered it," he said suddenly, rocking her doubtful thoughts. She stared at him, not wanting to believe.

"Is that why you were so angry?"

"I thought all this, staying with your family and being with you in this place was just a detour. It was never something fixed and I had never considered another life because what was the point? Neverland is my home and I only want to spend my time there with you."

Wendy smiled with a strange sadness. "All this time you were trying so hard to get me to go back when I should have been trying to do the same with you!" But who could perused Peter Pan to do anything? It seemed preposterous.

"Well the picnics and gallery visits were terribly tempting but I'm afraid I'm unmoved," he joked, still twirling the dagger. Wendy stared at it, realising that the thing he thought was keeping him alive was actually holding him back. Before she could think about the consequences she snatched the dagger out of his hand and dropped it into the grate beside her.

"Wendy!" he shouted, jumping to his feet and looked down at the grate in horror. Below was not truly a sewer but the hidden remnants of the River Fleet that lead down to the Thames. By morning the dagger would be swept out to sea.

"It's all right, it was the snag holding you back. You won't die and now all ties to Neverland are gone," she explained breathlessly and he looked up at her. Her smile fell and she backed away, eyes fixed on his flushed and angry face. But the closer he got the less severe he became until he stopped and started to laugh.

"God you'll drive me mad before the end," he said and Wendy relaxed, back now against a wall. Had it worked? Was the influence of the island now gone and if so would it make a bit of difference?

"You're not angry?"

"I'm fuming but I'm not going to jump into the Thames. That was very naughty of you," he said, advancing again but his demeanour was completely different, playful and coy. Wendy was not sure that boded well for her either. Heart racing and blood pumping she watched him expectantly as he gave her a slow curling smile. Standing a foot apart a shadow suddenly fell on them and they looked up.

It was a Zeppelin.

"Oh my god! They warned me, quick!" she grabbed his arm and ran. They both stared upwards, amazed because neither had seen one with their own eyes before. It was huge, moving faster then she envisioned something of it's bulk could.

Wendy ran back into the spinster's house and Peter followed close behind. He almost collided with her when she pulled a curtain aside and looked down at a flight of steps the sisters had used.

"Down here!"

They ran as fast as they could and though Peter was faster he never overtook her. They reached a dank basement, filled with all sorts of odd things that would have been fascinating to search through. The sisters were not there and Peter pulled on her dress and she followed him through another door and down another flight of steps. Below running water was gurgling and she knew that it must lead to the submerged river. Faintly above Wendy could hear a strange popping noise, followed by a whistle. All was silent and it seemed to suck the air out of her lungs before she heard a distant booming. Terrified she looked back at Peter who was grinning like he had never had so much fun in his life.

"God help me," she moaned and came to the end of the stair. They stumbled into darkness and she almost slipped over a ledge before she felt his arm quickly circle her waist.

"Careful," he whispered, sounding more serious then he looked. Below she could faintly see water rushing along and against the walls were narrow walk ways. Peter looked up and down, concentrating before he pointed left.

"This way, the other way leads to the Thames," he said and began walking. Taking his hand Wendy walked carefully, mindful of her step in the dark while above she could hear the awful sound of bombs falling. There were a lot of factories in this part of London but a lot of poor people lived there too. Would the enemy be able to distinguish that in the dark? At least they can hide below, she thought, and gave thanks that London was basically a city build over tunnels and vaults. Her father even said that one day it would all cave in but she thought it was made of sterner stuff then that.

"They told me this would happen," she said and her voice echoed strangely. "They said the enemy would strike unseen and that I should take shelter."

"Well they were hardly unseen," he said, distracted and Wendy frowned. What else could they have been talking about? It was obviously the Zeppelin. But her thoughts were interrupted when Peter stopped and she could hear another rumbling noise over the water.

"The underground," she said, wondering what station they were close to. Her brothers had told her that people sometimes took shelter in them. Maybe that was where the sisters had gone. Slightly too excited then she had any right to be she followed Peter until he came to a half open door and poked his head in.

"I can hear people. Come on," he said and disappeared inside. Thankfully the steps leading up where even and dry and soon they found themselves in a large tunnel lit with candles. A large group of people were gathered and they did not give Wendy or Peter a second look. She could see that most of them were poor or working class but she could see a few people of her own class there too. Even though there were so many people there from different circles of life they all seemed remarkably cheerful and accommodating.

"They're dancing," she pointed out as they made their way through the crowed and spotted a few couples moving to the music issuing from a scratchy gramophone. Peter smirked, hand still in hers.

"Well they could all die at any minute, might as well go out having a fun time."

_Is that what you've been telling yourself to justify your actions?_ _I'm a terrible person with no conscious so I might as well have fun while doing it?_ she thought darkly but smiled swiftly when he drew her to two free seats by a wall. She sat, smoothing her dress down and tried to banish the thoughts.

"So what now?" Wendy asked and a young man standing near by answered, turning.

"We wait for the all clear."

"Thank you," Wendy said and then blinked, completely shocked because she knew him. He used to deliver milk to her house and she once had the most raging crush on him, something her brothers and even her mother had teased her mercilessly about. But now as she stared at him she had to desperately search for his name as a look of recognition entered his eyes.

"Miss Wendy?"

"...Thomas?" she ventured and he nodded. Wendy sighed and smiled at him and it was genuine. She felt a little tingle, an old small frizzle inside as he smiled back but it was not the same. He moved closer, eyes on her but then paused when he saw Peter. Wendy had forgotten about him for a moment but she realised that as soon as Tom had said her name Peter had stiffened and was now poised like a cat. He was even looking at the milk boy like he was a mouse he wanted to play with.

_Torture more like_, she thought and then quickly turned in her seat to Peter and took his hand.

"Peter this is Thomas, he used to deliver milk to us."

"How..._quint_," Peter said and grinned in a way that made Wendy squeeze his hand in warning. To his credit Tom did not look perturbed, on the contrary he held out his hand to Peter who shook it after a beat.

"Nice to meet you Peter," he said politely and then looked down at Wendy. "I haven't seen you in a while 'cause I've taken over for my dad," Tom explained and Wendy nodded, wondering if he realised she had even been gone.

"So you have your own little milk empire then?" Peter asked in that same overly eager tone. It made Wendy want to hit him, he was so conceited and Tom didn't deserve it.

The blonde young man smiled a little. "Somethin like that. So are you back at 'ome Miss Wendy?" He asked and she hesitated before answering.

"For the present yes," she said vaguely and he nodded, hands in his pockets. He really was handsome but in a bland way. He had nothing of Peter's uniqueness, his fire. But he would make someone a good husband, she thought, he's stable and kind and for that she was wistful. Tom looked back at the make shift dance floor and back.

"Will you be dancing?" he asked daringly and before Wendy could answer Peter lifted their clasping hands and pinned Tom with a challenging look.

"Yes, with me."

Getting the message loud and clear Tom smiled and inclined his head, touching his cap and went back to his huddle of friends. Wendy sat back and knew that two years ago she would have cried at having a chance to dance with him hindered. Now she just rolled her eyes and tutted at Peter who still watched his rival closely.

"So childish," she admonished but he did not care.

"So that's who you might have married if it weren't for me," he scoffed arrogantly and sat back, fingers lacing through hers.

"Marry him? Don't be ridiculous."

"Snob."

She pursed her lips, trying not to laugh and spotted a woman going around with a tea trolley. She approached them and generously offered her and Peter a cup. Cradling the mug against her chest Wendy sighed, feeling peculiar. She did not know what fate awaited her in the morning. She could go home, leave Peter behind, and explain to her family the truth as best she could. She could go with Peter and throw away any chance at fitting in here. Or they may be hit by a bomb and she'd never have to chose. She took a sip of strong sweet tea and felt it burning through her warmly and suspected there was something in it other then black leaves and sugar. Wendy watched the couples dance slowly with a wistful expression.

"You could stay here with me Peter, we could live down here."

"Very tempting," he drawled before taking a drink and then the idea seemed to fire him. "We would have all the amenities. Beds, running water and a roof over our heads. Lots of space."

"Don't forget the company and the local transport links," she added as a train thundered overhead. Peter chuckled, eyeing her thoughtfully and she smiled shyly and looked down.

"You're not angry at me any more," he said curiously and Wendy sat back with a sigh.

"I'm too tired to be angry. Doesn't it strike you as ridiculous, the whole affair? We might die here and that would be it. Neverland and hourglasses and shadows, it's all so silly when you think about it down here."

"Well I'm glad my life amuses you so," he said a little sharply and she looked at him steadily.

"It doesn't have to be your life, that's what I'm talking about Peter."

He rolled his eyes, irritable. "You were just talking about me dying a second ago but now I have a whole bright future ahead of me here with you?"

"All right then, as you're so good at pretending, lets imagine that silly bright future is now. Tomorrow might not come and if it does I know you won't consider it but for now, in this place, lets. I'm mad for saying it but if I'm to die then I wish for one night of happiness and if I can't get it with you then I will look elsewhere," she finished hotly and stood, about to head towards Tom when Peter rose and turned her around.

"If you wish it," he said softly and kissed her. Whenever they had kissed before a force seemed to wave through them but now something swelled inside, a tingling warm energy that left her supple but charged. The feeling swelled and swelled until they were both gasping into each other's mouth. She had delved her hands into his hair while he cupped her face and as he pulled back Wendy blinked, dazed and was pleased to see he looked just as stunned. He smiled at her gently, tenderly and then pulled her back for another kiss, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_...and that's as fluffy as it's gonna get (though I could expand it, if anyone is interested?) Here on out it's tragic so I thought a bit of levity was needed..._

_Even though the episode we do not speak of was blah I loved those two strange spinsters who finished each other's sentences._


	16. Chapter 16

Years later when she found herself sad or lonely she would look back on that night in the tunnels and try to recall the excitement and joy she felt. But the strange thing about old memories, especially ones that are faint, is that sometimes there is a doubt about whether it actually happened. At one point it may have been a pleasant day dream that evolved into something real in the mind. For Wendy it was especially difficult because she could distinctly remember thinking that it felt like a dream while it was happening.

_These are strange people, people like Peter and the Spinning Spinsters_, she thought as she danced. It was a suspicion that seemed less important the longer she remained. Somehow, she was not sure when, the people gathered had found out that it was her birthday and as one all the people in the tunnels had sang her _happy birthday_ and then _for she's a jolly good fellow_ for good measure. Hundreds of voices had echoed around her, all belonging to complete strangers but they sang as if they were celebrating one of their own. It touched her in a way that stuffy birthday cakes and even stuffier singing could never because the people gathered at her house half hated her but here, here she was no one and that was special. Overwhelmed she hugged people around her, danced whenever someone took her hand and carried on drinking when an old lady wrinkled like a walnut had given her a drink that made her toes curl and her belly glow warmly. It was, for all intense and purposes, the best birthday party she had ever had and, she considered in retrospect, the last one she was to have for a very, very long time.

"You're drunk!" Peter said, throwing himself onto a chair next to her. He seemed equally as tipsy but she had not seen him drink anything. Maybe this was what he was like when having a good time that did not involve using someone as target practise**. **He had been dancing too, his face flushed and his hair tasselled and he had never looked so handsome to her in that moment. Wendy separated her fingers an inch.

"Just a little," she confessed and only felt the tinniest stab of shame. It _was_ her birthday after all and even if it wasn't she thought she deserved to have one night where she did not have to worry or care about what people thought. _It must be what Peter feels every second_, she considered with a touch of jealousy but then felt a thrill go through her when he leaned over and kissed her quickly. He had been doing it throughout the night. She would be dancing with ragamuffin girls her own age who laughed ribaldry when he suddenly swooped in and captured her mouth, kissed her long and hard and then a second later he was gone. However if there were young men present he would grab her and pull her away to dance, his eyes flashing possessively.

Now he sighed and brushed a curl away from her sweaty face, his expression longing. She had requested that even if he had no intention of staying with her permanently that he pretend, for just that night, that he was. And that was a dangerous thing because Peter was so very good at pretending and she knew that if she really threw all her inhabitation to the wind she could believe that it was all true. If she did she would have to reawaken to a painful reality in the morning.

"What's the face for?" he said, pointing at her sad expression and Wendy shook her head, smiling.

"Just silly serious things," she said and got to her feet again and gazed down at him. The morning would be painful, no matter what she believed so why deny herself? Wendy bit her lip and touched his face gently, making him blink. "Peter what are your exact feelings for me?"

"Exact? Hmm, I don't think I could be _exact,_" he teased and drew her closer to him until she had to rest her knee between his legs.

"Then be concise," she replied with a tight, coy smile.

"Very well...I don't want to live my life without you," he said seriously.

"Why?"

Peter smiled, leaning back a little. "Does it need saying?" he said evasively but when she did not respond or move he stood up slowly and took her face in his hands. "If only I could show you," he said and took one of her hands and placed it against his chest. His heart was beating hard. "Then you would need no words."

"Well I'm afraid in this world words are all we've got," she said, letting it go. He could pretend and be totally convincing, he could say that he had never loved anyone as he does her but she knew he could not say it and truly mean it. Maybe there was a part of him that wanted to spare her that lie. The seers had said that if he stayed here he would be able to love but Wendy could not expect that to happen over night. It may take years or even decades and that was time Peter was not wiling to spend and find out. Not here.

_So just focus on now_, she thought and slowly twined her arms around his neck. She moved in slow circles, humming a love balled about being married in old age and Peter smirked and pulled her closer to him. If there were any bombs falling above them Wendy did not know, the music echoed through the tunnels, obliterating anything from the topside and for that she was thankful. As she leaned her head back to look up at the high arching ceiling Peter pressed his lips to her throat and she smiled drunkenly. They kissed softly, oblivious to anything else until Wendy stumbled, more tired than intoxicated. Peter smiled and took her hand.

"Come on, lets find an empty bunk," he lead her through gas lamp lit tunnels to a vast cavern where numerous people were sleeping on all manner of beds. Wendy knew then that it must be something not quite of her world because there was no way something like this could go unreported. She stepped carefully around people sleeping under blankets or on elaborate cast iron beds until Peter stopped before a simple looking camp bed pushed against the cavern wall. He got in, kicking off his shoes and then looked at her expectantly.

Wendy hesitated. They had sat on beds before, they had been alone numerous time but it was only earlier that night that something had distinctly shifted in their dynamic. She knew that it was a natural progression for many, to be intimate, but it was never something she dreamed happening until she had a ring on her finger. As if reading her mind Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled, reaching for her hand.

"What kind of exhibitionist do you take me for? You're exhausted, sleep," he said and pulled her down beside him. Wendy, a little embarrassed at what conclusions her mind was so readily willing to jump to, settled down beside him before toeing off her shoes. She kept a respectful distance between them but he quickly put his hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him, looking upwards all the while. Wendy, mind whirling, rested her head on his shoulder and relaxed.

She had been been lapse while pretending but Peter was guilty of it too. She had seen him occasionally sitting by himself or standing with others but deep in his own head. Lost in his thoughts she had hoped that he was considering what the seers had told him. First and foremost he was a creature of self preservation, could he really ignore their dire warning? She looked at his face as he stared upwards, a small frown line between his brows.

"What's on your mind?" she asked quietly and he smiled gently, still not looking at her.

"Oh, just silly serious things," he responded, using her words. Wendy laid a hand against his chest, over his heart while the other tickled the hair at the nape of his neck. He finally turned to her as she gently kissed his cheek and she stared into his eyes.

"Stay, Peter. Not for me but for yourself. Save yourself," she urged, leaning over him partially so she could better see his face.

If he was walking towards a fate where he would be the most cursed thing in creation then whether he loved her or not did not matter. If he just needed to stand on the land of his birth, breathe that air and live separated from Neverland then he should do it whether she was there or not. Peter's jaw clenched and he tried to look away but she was above him, one hand against the side his head stopping him from turning away. He closed his eyes, his fingers against her back digging into the material of her dress. Wendy frowned, annoyed at his stubbornness.

"Closing your eyes won't make this go away. Are you so blinded with arrogance not to see -"

"Of course I see!" he snapped quietly, eyes opening and he stared at her intensely. "But I've told you, I won't marry or grow old with you -"

"Then don't," she interrupted, making him blink. "If you truly don't want to be with me here then I won't stop you. But for goodness sake Peter consider what you've heard. If you stay here alone or with someone else," it hurt to consider, "at least you'll be safe. You might not be as powerful as you were but you won't be cursed to a fate worse then death."

He managed to smile. "You think if I decided to stay in this dreadfully boring place I _wouldn't_ want to spend that time with you?"

"But you said -"

"I said marry. And I have no intention of growing into a middle aged sad sack bemoaning his lost youth. I'd rather die," he admitted flatly and but she thought, not for the first time, that he was lying to himself.

"Well one of those things does not have to happen but the other...I'm sorry but you cannot defy the laws of nature here," she said in quiet amusement but then grew serious. "Please, you know you can't do what you've planned, it won't work in the way you wish."

"Prophecy is not set in stone," he countered. "What just happened was the mere interpretation of shadows on a wall by two batty spinsters," he stated hostilely and Wendy thought there was a long history there between him and the sisters.

"They seemed sure to me and even if they weren't that fate is not something to be dismissed lightly. They said to succeed you had to have a pure heart, one like a child and, well...you don't," she recalled and he stared at her in mock surprise.

"Really? I thought my heart was as pure as snow."

"Well if you stay then one day it could be," she said jokingly and then sat up as the implication hit her. "You...you're not here to accomplish that are you? To make your heart clean and then go back?" she stared down at him suspiciously while he laughed at her and pulled her back down.

"Wendy I think I'd have to spend at least 70 years here, be basically on my death bed, before that could happen. And once you're too old, physically, Neverland doesn't work for you properly anyway."

"Oh," she said, embarrassed while he smiled at her.

"That would have been a good plan, if it worked._ I_ didn't even think of that," he said proudly and Wendy's lips thinned. She wasn't sure if that was much of a compliment. Peter sighed, playing with her hair and then spoke thoughtfully. "Why are you so concerned with my fate anyway? I thought you'd secretly be pleased."

"Of course I wouldn't be! I'm not!" she said, looking up at him with a heavy frown. "I think that you deserve to be punished for the things that you've done but I would not wish that horrible fate on anyone."

"But where I'm concerned you especially wouldn't wish it," he replied cockily and she rolled her eyes. His arrogance faded and was replaced with something more introspective. "I've lived a long time, met many people and seen many things but never something like you," he said softly and ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. "I want to go back but I don't want to give you up."

"I don't want to go with you Peter," she said plainly and she was truthful. She had considered it, been tempted but if it meant spending decades watching him gleefully head towards his own destruction then she would not do it. "And I'd rather not give you up either," she admitted and he smiled at her, something that made her breathless.

"Maybe we could come to an arrangement, a compromise. You stay here and I'll go back to the island but every year I'd return and take you back with me, for a time."

"But that would have to work both ways," Wendy said, playing along. "You would have to come and stay with me. Maybe during the summer and in the winter I'd go back." At least she'd be missing the dreadful cold and gale force winds that batter Britain during those months.

"But then once you're with me there's the risk of returning. I don't think I'd be able to give you back," he muttered against the side of her face, hand gliding along her leg. Wendy's chest began to rise and fall fast, her skin flushed and searing.

"But my family...?"

"We can't both have you," he whispered into her ear before brushing his lips against the freckles that dusted her cheek bones. Maybe it was the drink or maybe the fantasy was too tempting to deny but when he covered her mouth with his own and pushed her under him she did not resist. However someone else did.

"No hanky panky," said an old, irritable voice and Peter cried out in pain as he was cracked over the head with a walking stick. He rolled off her, about to dismember whoever it was who hit him but they were gone. Rubbing his head in annoyance Wendy started to laugh and then flopped down onto the bed in hysterics and after his wounded pride had faded he joined her.

* * *

He slept fretfully, waking her. As before he muttered words in his sleep that she did not understand but whatever he was dreaming about it was clearly awful. Wendy brushed the back of her fingers down his warm cheek, noting with surprise that there were tears trapped in his eyelashes, like drops of dew on blades of grass and she brushed her thumb gently over the tears and then sucked her thumb. It was a strange thing to do but she was in a strange mood, her head thumping. They were real, the taste of salt on her tongue sharp. She wished she knew what he dreamed of, what made him come apart in such a way and made him look so helpless but she would probably never know. He hated being seen in such a helpless state and despised being asked about it.

_Maybe his family_, she wondered, _whoever they may have been_. Her thoughts turned to her own family and with it came a strong stab of shame. She had been ignoring it, trying to focus on herself and her own enjoyment but now she could not. It was her birthday no longer, the threat of dying any second was past and now she would have to face the reality of the situation.

She had walked out on her family without so much as a word. They had put so much effort into making her feel at home, organising her party and spending a fortune on her and this was how she repaid them? She knew that she was besmirched in their eyes and she accepted that, as hurtful as it was but they still loved her. They would forgive her the lies, they may even come to accept the impossible truth if she tried. Had she really gone to so much effort to escape Neverland, to reunite with her family only to return to the one person she was running from?

Wendy knew that now was the time to decide. She had three paths: one back to her family and their possible acceptance. She would have to live as an outcast in society and possibly drag her family down with her but they would be together. The second path was back to Neverland, to eternal youth and the loss of all responsibility. If she returned there she would have to cast off her old life, her old self and live as the Lost Boys do: without consequence. It was freeing in a way but Neverland also lead to damnation and a love she would never truly receive.

_So the third path...was a dream. _He would not stay with her, she would not be a mother or an actress, she knew this in her heart but it was the path, the life she yearned for the most. It was a fairytale, a place where True Love and happily ever after existed and that was not possible in the real world. Even their little fantasy was impossible because Peter was right, he would not be able to give her back when the winter ended. He was too possessive, too exclusive in his desire for her to ever share what he deemed his.

_If you came to me during the spring and grew to love only to go back and become hard again? I would force you stay as you would with me,_ she thought ruthlessly and knew that it could never be. She would have to keep him in a cage for it to work and she was not so cruel.

Wendy slipped on her shoes and stood and then buttoned the coat he had given her the night before. It was decided, she would return to the family who actually could love her. Fingers playing over the thimble he had given her Wendy bent down and gently kissed his mouth and he seemed to calm in his sleep. He said that he would not force her to go back with him, that she would be the one to ask to return and maybe it could have happened but not today. She hoped that he would honour his promise.

Biting the inside of her cheek and trying not to cry Wendy climbed a flight of steps, following a few people as they ascending up to the street. As the door opened she blinked, casting an arm over her eyes. Outside morning was breaking as a thick fog rolled in, touching the windows and doors of the quiet street and enveloping the people that stepped into it. Wendy inhaled a breath and held it as she walked into the white whirling mist before she was engulfed.

* * *

She walked slowly, carefully until she bumped into a line of people who were following a blind man to the nearest hospital. Wendy tagged along, thankful for the direction because she had been walking aimlessly and could only see an arms length in front of her.

"What a commotion!" someone said ahead, though she could only make out a dark, small shape. "All that noise and ruination! I was comin' 'ome from work and then had to dash back down into the basement. Fancy spendin' a night at work," the woman said with a sniff of disdain and Wendy smiled.

"I know. I heard there were casualties," said another quietly but Wendy was distracted by a noise. At first she thought it was the planes returning but they would not attack in a dense fog such as this. It pounded behind them, echoing strangely. The man leading them at the front must have stopped because Wendy bumped into the person next to her suddenly.

"What's that noise?" Wendy said to herself and squinted through the mist. As she did dark figures began to materialise and she froze, eyes wide. One after another boys appeared in the mist and their numbers increased with every second. Soon a crowd was amassed twenty feet away from her and for a moment Wendy was cautiously optimistic. Had the Lost Boys escaped? Had they possibly come back to their own world? But her naïve thoughts were dashed when someone at the front raised his spear and shouted.

"GET HER!"

They all roared and ran forward, daggers and spears shaking for her blood and Wendy ran.

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_uh-oh. Almost near the end now...  
_


	17. Chapter 17

She felt something whoosh near her ear and ducked as a spear shot past her head and clattered a few feet away. Wendy lunged for it, falling to her knees and twisted around, weapon held tight in her hands. The fog was dense but so many people were yelling and running in pandemonium that it swirled and separated every so often. On her knees everything seemed to happen slowly, like time was covered in molasses. The Lost Boys charged forward, running low and screaming and the people that Wendy had been with were sluggish to react, their faces uncomprehending. If they did not move they would be killed, the boys would not care who they hurt so intense was their blood lust.

Wendy struggled to her feet, her legs stiff and unresponsive. She opened her mouth to scream, to warn them to run when someone suddenly grabbed her, covered her mouth and pulled her back roughly. She was stunned momentarily but then struggled, using her elbows and the spear in her hands to defend herself before she was slammed against a wall, winding her.

"Quiet," said a low voice as she was pulled down so she was kneeling. Wendy sucked in air and looked at her attacker – or maybe he was her rescuer – in surprise.

"Felix?"

"Stay low, don't shout," he warned, crouched down beside her. He had dragged her to the mouth of a narrow alley and was watching the misty street beyond like a hawk. She could hear the boys screaming and their feet pounding on the pavement.

"Wh – what's happening? Why did they attack me?"

He looked back at her, his long face now sharp and tense. He looked exhausted. "With Pan gone the boys started to grow...restless. It might have been a few weeks for you but for us it was considerably longer. Some wanted to go home while others wanted to stay. They – they started to think that Peter had abandoned them," he said and it was clear what he thought of that by the way his mouth thinned. "But some remained faithful but I knew something had to be done."

"What?" she asked, watching the street nervously, the spear slipping in her sweaty hands.

"Nothing brings people together like a mutual enemy," he answered simply, staring at her and Wendy's mouth fell open.

"They think that's me?!"

"They needed someone to blame. Peter disappeared, going after you and I know he had things under control here but after awhile that wasn't cutting it. It – it looked like he abandoned us for you."

"That's not true," she said but without much conviction. Felix glared at her.

"If you had never come to Neverland none of this would have happened!" he retorted angrily, his usual calm completely gone. He was frayed and while he could command respect he was not the leader, Peter was. Trying to keep everyone together had caused him great stress.

"I didn't ask for this!" she said loudly and he put a finger to her lips, eyes blazing.

"I don't care. Once we were united but now we're at war. There are two factions: those loyal to Pan and those against. The latter has the biggest numbers and they're coming for him," he said bitterly and then pressed himself against a wall, bringing Wendy up with him as someone stopped near to the alley.

"And these boys are for him?" she whispered.

"Yes, the traitors actually want to protect you," he said, back to his usual dry tone and Wendy gazed at him, trying not to show how fearful she was.

"And you?"

His lip curled as he stared down at her. "I do what Pan tells me. If he wants you dead you'll die, if he wants you safe then so be it," he answered and Wendy knew that she was just a means to an end. With Peter gone those loyal to him needed a reason to stay loyal without the pipes to sway them. Felix was right, there was nothing more unifying than a common enemy.

"We have to help those people I was with!" she said, about to run back into the street but the tall boy had a firm grip on her arm and would not let go.

"Wait, if you go out there they'll kill you. We need the pipes Wendy, where are they?" he stared at her intensely, fingers digging into her arm. Wendy shook her head.

"They're miles away from here, someone in Kensington Gardens has them." She could imagine what old George was doing with them, having a world of fun no doubt. She had given them to him after visiting the Ritz and after she convinced him that she was being serious he had saluted her and promised to keep them safe. It was his one piece of proof that he was right and the world was nothing but normal. Felix smirked.

"Well it's lucky for you that I have these," he said and withdrew a sack from under his cloak and opened it. Inside were numerous magical beans, glinting colourfully. Wendy looked up and for the first time since the Lost Boys appeared she smiled. She dipped her hand in and took a handful of beans.

"How did you get them?" she asked, being very careful. She removed her sash and used the length of fabric to carry the beans in.

"I didn't," Felix admitted darkly. "When the ones who wanted to go home realised that you had got a bean from the Dark Hollow they thought they could do it too. No one has ever entered that place and returned," he said and his jaw clenched. "I warned them that it was impossible but they wouldn't listen to me," he said and Wendy was surprised at how pained he sounded.

"But you called them traitors...?"

"They were my brothers first," he replied with feeling and Wendy was abashed.

"I'm sorry."

"Ten went in and only one came back. He had retrieved a lot of beans but he died before he could use them. The ones against Peter who were waiting used them, went back the their own lands but a few came here, looking for Peter. We – we fought and we managed to get some of the beans too. We went after them but I don't know where they are. My boys thought that Peter might be in danger so there was nothing I could say to stop them leaving Neverland."

"And I guess they thought the personification of evil was keeping him prisoner, I presume?" she asked, waving a hand at herself but then her ill humour was shot when someone on the street screamed in pain. She could not be sure if it was a Lost Boy or an innocent civilian.

"Wendy you have to get the pipes! I'll find Peter."

"All right. He – he's down in the tunnels. There's a door, oh I don't know where it is," she said desperately but Felix was already moving.

"Stay close, keep low," he whispered and Wendy nodded, keeping near as he darted out from the alley and onto the foggy street. Most of the Lost Boys had gone, either looking for her or Peter but a few remained. Wendy kept her head lowered and carefully took a bean from inside her makeshift bag. But as she did she heard something that turned her blood cold. A whistle was blowing and not just any whistle.

"POLICE!"

"Oh god," Wendy whispered, whipping around and tried to see what direction they were coming from.

"The Old Bill is 'ere," someone said with relief some distance away and she spotted the lady who had spent the night at her work place crouching behind a cattle trough. As more whistles blasted, Wendy could hear the boys roaring in retaliation, she looked for a place to throw the bean when someone banged into her from behind, making her sprawl to the ground. The beans in her velvet bag flew out and Wendy watched them soar, breath caught in her throat.

"WATCH OUT!" Felix shouted but it was too late. As the beans bounced and hit the cobbles portals appeared just as the Lost Boys and police clashed. Ground that was seconds ago under their feet disappeared and with a gasp they tumbled into spinning vortexes of many colours. There were so many of them that the winds they produced cleared the fog away and suddenly the street was visible. Wendy watched, horror struck, as Lost Boys, police and ordinary Londoners were sucked into different worlds, never to be seen again.

Everyone was still, shocked by what had happened but as the portals closed they started to stir. Wendy got to her feet and saw with dismay that the remaining Lost Boys were now looking at her like a quick death would not be enough. They drew back bows, cocking their arrows and Wendy knew that she did not have a second to spare. She drew her hand back and wished to be in Kensington Gardens.

"Stop!" Peter's voice rang out strong and clear and all turned in shock. At first Wendy thought that he was leading a crowd to them but as he got closer she saw the truth: the crowd was leading _him_. The Lost Boys who now saw Peter as the enemy had found him and were leading him on, pointing swords at him. Wendy was surprised to see little Curly in the crowd as he waved at her shyly.

"Peter!" his followers shouted triumphantly and Wendy could see that Slightly was the loudest of all. It seemed that his unease at being a Lost Boy was gone and when he suddenly grabbed her and put the point of his knife against her throat she gasped. He must have been the one to knock her over, causing so much unintentional chaos.

"Look! We have her!"

Peter looked from him, to Felix and then to Wendy. He smiled tightly at her, a swift glance and then fixed his eyes back on Slightly. "And _why_ do you have her?" he asked politely but his eyes were steel. The ones that had him prisoner shifted uncomfortable as Wendy was shaken roughly.

"For all the trouble she's caused! The moment she got to Neverland she tried to pour poison in our ears, tried to turn us against you!"

"That's not true!" someone next to Peter shouted and she felt a flash of gratitude. The speaker, she though he was Tootles, glared at Slightly. "She was like us: a prisoner! She showed us that we did not have to live that way any longer!" They roared in agreement and shoved Peter forward until he fell to his knees. Felix, who had been retraining Slightly, came forward, more angry then she had ever seen him.

"Stop! I won't see any more of you die! You're no longer on the island, let it be!"

"We want revenge!" they shouted and a knife was placed against Peter's throat, drawing blood.

"STOP!" she screamed, hand reaching out plaintively and the ones who defended her blinked in shock. "Please, don't kill him. I – I don't want anyone else to die because of me," she said gutturally and the blade at Peter's throat lowered slightly.

"If anyone here wants to stay then I won't stop them," Peter said and even though he was on his knees there was nothing abased about him. "Those who have remained loyal to me lower your weapons," he demanded and after a long hesitation they did. Wendy gasped in relief and ran towards Peter before she could stop herself.

"Let him go!" she cried and her request was granted. Peter got to his feet and Wendy ran into his arms. Those gathered on both sides looked at the show of affection in deep confusion. Slightly was the one who realised what it meant first and his face flared red.

"You and _her_? You _chose_ to stay here?" he asked, shaking with betrayal and Peter pinned him with a look.

"Of course I did! You think anyone could keep _me_ prisoner?!" he boasted and then shook his head. "Why am I even defending myself to you? It's none of your concern," Peter said and Wendy laced her fingers through his. Slightly's eyes bugged out of his head and he glared at her, completely mad.

"I didn't think it was possible but she's warped you too! Nothing is more important then Neverland, that's what you told us! You said we were there for a reason, we had a purpose helping you restore magic! That only changed when she came! This is all her fault!" he shouted and the ones loyal to Peter who looked shocked raised their weapons and cried out in assent.

Wendy gasped as Slightly and the rest of them rushed forward and Peter shoved her behind him but it was too late. Someone grabbed her hair and roughly dragged her and she screamed. In the violence that followed she hit, kicked and bit; a vicious creature that attacked anything that touched her until she was stunned by a blow to the head. Before she lost consciousness she could see more police running through the mist, their whistles cutting through the air shrilly before the roar of angry voices drowned it out.

* * *

The first thing she heard was clapping and for a confused time she was transported back to the tunnels, surrounded by people wishing her happy birthday. But as she opened her eyes and groggily focused she realised her mistake. She was not in the tunnels surrounded by well wishers, she was swinging in a cage, back in Neverland. She got to her knees, groaning as her head pounded sickeningly and her hand came away sticky with blood. She blinked, still in a confused fog and leaned forward to peer out of the gaps in the wicker cage.

Below the Lost Boys were gathered around in a circle and were clapping as Peter took a bow. He was back in the attire she knew him best in and she saw with a blow that his shadow was floating above him. She had missed what the celebration was about but she could guess: they had escaped and captured her. She gripped the thin sticks of wood with her fingertips, staring at Peter desperately.

"Peter!"

"Ah, she lives!" someone below shouted in disappointment and the boys yelled and howled. It was an awful sound and in that moment she was glad to be in the cage and out of their grasp. Peter looked up at her and smiled sweetly.

"I'm glad you're awake," he said politely and the boys smirked. "I was just telling the boys about my time in London. It made for a thrilling tale," he said dramatically.

"So romantic!" one of them said and that produced cruel laughter. Peter's mouth quirked and Wendy could not take her eyes off him.

_He's pretending_, she thought, _he's doing this to carry favour with the boys who now hate me. _She closed her eyes, willing herself to believe it because the sound of their laughter and his smirk were like daggers in her heart. Peter looked at the scant followers who remained, Wendy now realising how few there were. He narrowed his eyes, mouth curling as he looked at each in turn until he focused on Slightly for a moment.

"I'm thankful for those of you who have remained loyal to me and to Neverland. I know it must have been hard to see your brothers turn against you but you prevailed. However I want to clear up one misconception," he said and looked up at her. "Some thought I had abandoned you for her and that's simply not true," he said softly and Wendy swayed on her knees, her head pounding.

"Peter," she started but he overrode her.

"Yes I chose to stay there. I chose to stay in a land where I was powerless and cut off from my home and my true family. But do you know me so little as to think I'd actually risk so much for something as mundane as love?" he finished with a scoff.

Wendy shook her head, not wanting to hear or believe. A few hours ago they were playfully imagining the way their life could be, how they both could not truly live without the other. This was a cruel nightmare and she could not accept it. The Lost Boys shifted on their feet, frowning.

"Then why stay there?" some of them asked in tandem and Peter smiled.

"Because _she_ loved me. What fitting punishment is there than to convince her that it was returned, only to force her to come back here and see who I _truly_ care for," he said and spread his arms wide. It was a movement meant to take in everything, everything baring her. Wendy could not stand it any longer and she banged her fists against the cage, teeth bared as angry tears fell from her eyes. Her head was pounding madly like a drum now.

"You don't mean it! You're lying!" she shouted and he looked up at her and laughed. The sound cut through her confusion and anger and she sat back weakly, pain threatening to crush her. Below Peter motioned for her cage to be lowered and she swayed, not seeing or really feeling anything as the bottom touched the floor. Peter crouched down by her but not too close. He smiled at her sympathetically.

"You should be the least surprised by this Wendy," he said quietly. "You've seen my heart and so you know that I can not give you what you want. I'm sorry but you'll never mean more to me than this place," he finished in a soft tone but then blinked at the almost feverish rage in her eyes and rose. He smirked at the boys and shrugged. "Seems she's not taking it graciously, she looks positively sick!"

The boys laughed and she could see Slightly smirk and she wanted to bite him again. He had been suspiciously quiet, compared to the emotion he had shown in London. Now he was leaning against a rock with his arms crossed over his chest, a view of Neverland stretched out before him. _We must be up very high_, she thought dazedly. Even Peter noticed Slightly's self satisfied expression and cocked an eyebrow.

"Someone is looking pleased with themselves. Have something to share?"

"Oh, I think you'll see in time," he answered mysteriously and stared at her with a horrible smirk.

Wendy looked away and tried hard not to cry in front of them but she could not stop the sobs that escaped her. The boys mocked her, imitating her stifled cries and she screamed at them, kicking the inside of her cage.

"YOU'RE ALL FOOLS! HE CARES NOTHING FOR YOU OR THIS PLACE! THE ONLY THING HE CARES ABOUT IS HIMSELF!" she screamed with all the hurt and anger she was feeling and it seemed to take something out of her, sap her strength because she collapsed, shaking in a heap. Sweat was trickling off her and she found it hard to swallow, her mouth dry.

"Listen to how she wants to turn us against our leader _again!_" Slightly said, leaning off the rock and the boys nodded, gazing at her dangerously.

"We shouldn't stand for it!"

"We should kill her!" someone shouted and cries of agreement went up, a throaty roar that made her head hurt. She gazed at them blearily, trying to focus but it was difficult. She raised a hand to her head but it was too heavy. Someone was kneeling next to her cage, peering in and she could just grasp that it was Felix before he moved away. He had been quiet, saying nothing but now he moved to Peter and whispered in his ear as Slightly spoke again.

"We won't have to kill her! We just have to wait," he said assuredly and Peter's head shot around to stare at him.

"Oh and why do you sound so sure?" he asked pleasantly but his eyes were trained on his face like a bird of prey.

Slightly pulled out his knife and they could see the angry red bite mark on his arm. "She bit me so I bit her back," he answered simply, turning the blade so it caught the light. The tip of it was black but she still could not grasp what it meant, the pain was too great, obliterating her ability to think. She moaned and called out Peter's name weakly.

"Dreamshade?" Peter said, eyes lifting from the poisoned blade to Slightly's smug smile. For a moment his face was blank, there was absolutely nothing discernible to read on it but then his eyes flickered to life and they blazed with something beyond fury. He smiled at Slightly, a strange, terrible thing that made the arrogance drip from Slightly's face.

"Yes. It was just a scratch but she deserves to die slowly. Look at her," he said but Peter did not turn. He approached Slightly slowly and began to clap, all the while with that odd smile contorting his face.

"Well done! Not that long ago you were weeping like a child for your mother but now look at you! You're a hero! But there's something you didn't consider," he said as if wanting to let him down lightly as he came to a stop a foot away. Slightly looked unnerved, his eyes flicking around but the Lost Boys did not move, sensing danger.

"W – what?"

"You really should be more careful where you stand," Peter said earnestly and then pushed him over the edge. Slightly stumbled back, arms thrown out and Wendy saw the surprise on his face before he tumbled out of sight. One shrill scream cut through the air before it stopped suddenly but it echoed long after.

The Lost Boys gasped, staring at the spot where Slightly had been and then stared at Peter's tense back as he stared over the cliff edge. His shoulders were hunched and his hands balled into fists but when he jumped around he was grinning. They all flinched back, stunned and not sure what to do. Peter pointed behind him, eyes trained on them.

"Are we clear? You even _think_ about laying a finger on what is mine or look at her the wrong way and I'll tie you to Marooners' Rock myself and watch you drown. She's mine," he said through his teeth, threat offset by his giddy smile. Every single Lost Boy nodded profusely, not daring to meet his eye.

Wendy groaned, trying to sit up and she cried out in pain when her cage was jerked. It was only when someone touched her gently that she realised her cage was open.

"It's all right Wendy-bird, I've got you," Peter said gently and lifted her into his arms.

* * *

She did not remember how they came to the waterfall because one minute she was in his arms by the cage and the next a quiet roar of falling water was around them and she was being gently placed on the ground.

"Drink this," he said and she felt his fingers on her lips. Wendy turned her face away, trying to avoid his touch.

"You – you lied," she mumbled as he shifted against her. He lifted her up so she was resting against his chest.

"Yes, I do it frequently," he answered and then pushed his wet hand against her mouth. "You have to drink this otherwise you're going to die!"

But Wendy, delirious and heartbroken, did not believe him so he ruthlessly pushed his hand over her mouth and nose until she gasped for breath. She drank in the water cupped in his hand and the taste of it was like nothing she had ever experienced. She groaned, wanting more and he pulled his hand away and moved her closer to the waterfall where water fell over her face, washing away the blood. Wendy raised her tired and stiff arms and cupped her hands to catch the water and drank. It was like being reborn. Every part of her, every muscle and bone, every cell and atom was rejuvenated as her body was healed from the inside out. Over stimulated, Wendy sat back against Peter, her fingers resting against her lips as she stared at the falling water with a dreamy amazement.

"This is the source of the island, the heart. It's why everything remains young and never changes," he explained softly, arms around her and Wendy stiffened. She grabbed his hands and threw them off her as she jumped to her feet. She rounded on him and before he could react she slapped him.

"How could you say those things?! Do I really mean nothing to you?"

"What do you think?" he retorted heatedly. "I just killed for you!"

"Like you haven't before!" she scoffed, arms going around her chest as he shook his head, harsh lines around his mouth.

"No I haven't but I would do it again. Do you understand? I'd kill all of them if they hurt you!" he shouted and Wendy stared at him, appalled because he meant it. "I was trying to convince them that you didn't mean anything because my leadership was in jeopardy. It was a dishonourable thing to do but when I realised that they would dare undermine me, _try to kill you_, I saw my error," he admitted, coming to her and gazing deeply into her eyes.

She did not want to be sucked in, her sense of betrayal still too strong but she could not tear her gaze away. He reached down for her hands but she pulled away so he cupped her face instead. Not two hours ago she was on her way back home, she had made up her mind but now she was in Neverland like her decision meant nothing.

"I never had a chance, did I? You were always going to make sure I returned with you."

"I don't know what I would have done if they hadn't turned up. When I woke up and you were gone I was...well, I was hurt," he confessed, looking aside as if it was the first time he had admitted such a thing. "But more then that I felt...empty and I knew why."

"Because your toy had left?"

"Because my heart was gone," he said and Wendy looked down, surprised and touched despite herself. She blinked, realising that he was showing her something. When she had seen his heart before she had mistaken it for a lump of coal but now it was different. It was still dark, like something had trapped dark smoke in a glass but unmistakable rays of light shone through, casting them in a warm red light.

"It – it's healthier. The spinsters were right! Your heart was being healed back there," she said and this time she touched what he was offering her. It was not as warm as she thought it would be but at her touch it pulsed brightly. Wendy looked up and smiled but at the look on his face it faded. He looked scared and unsure.

"I don't want to be cursed," he said softly, returning his heart. "I know that I should be back in London with you, its the only sane thing to do but I can't now."

"Why?" she demanded, gripping his hands as he gazed at her sadly.

"Because you won't be there."

"What? Of course I will be! Lets go!" she said and pulled him with her but he stopped her, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry but you can't leave the island Wendy. You were poisoned with Dreamshade and you would have died. The water saved your life but at a price. You'll never be sick again, heal from any hurt but you can never leave, if you do you'll die," he broke it to her softly and Wendy stared at him, blinking as the full weight of what he was saying settled on her.

"Never leave? But – but I can't stay here forever," she denied, shaking her head.

"Not forever! Don't you see? I _have_ to claim the Heart of the Truest Believer now because when I do you'll be free. I'll have all the magic and only then can I save you. I'll be doing it for all of us!" he said passionately and she was almost swayed. She closed her eyes, gripping his arms, trying to fight it.

"But my family..."

He inhaled, a sound that she had never heard before and it made her freeze. He sounded regretful. Wendy opened her eyes and saw that he was gazing at her with an honest sorrow.

"I'm so sorry Wendy."

"A – about what?" a leaden dread appeared in her stomach and she stared at his face with wide, innocent eyes. He seemed deeply pained.

"When I woke up and you weren't there I went back to your house. It was fine but there was a crowd outside and they told me what happened before the boys captured me. Your...your parents followed us out of the house when they realised we had gone. Maybe they suspected that we were eloping, I don't know. Your friend was with them, the one with the red hair and a few others. They were knocking on doors when the Zeppelins flew overhead."

"No," she uttered, pulling herself out of his arms. She shook her head in denial, not wanting to hear any more and or see his sad face. "No, they were at home. Father was going to bed! Mother was – mother was entertaining guests!"

"They were but -"

"NO!" she yelled, rounding on him. "No I don't believe it! This is a trick! Of course I'd conveniently get sick and be forced to stay here! Of course I – I'd have nothing left to go home to! It's the only way that you could win!" she raged at him while he stared at her with an insufferable patience, letting her storm at him. Seeing him, suddenly really seeing all the years that had accumulated behind his eyes struck her and she could not look away. He was so very old and the pain she was feeling now was something that he had experienced over and over again. She could see the weariness of it all that he hid behind a smile.

"Your brothers are safe, they're with your aunt," he told her softly as she shook slightly, eyes loosing focus and Peter went to her and pulled her into his arms.

"They were throwing me a party. We - we took a family picture together in the garden," she said, as if this was enough to stop death. "I didn't even say goodbye," she whispered in a small voice, resting limply in his embrace and she recalled what the sisters had said.

_You have our condolences..._

Wendy's knees went out from under her and she fell to the floor, Peter following her down. He pulled her close, brushing his hand over her hair and rubbed her back as she stared into the middle distance, eyes dry. She did not know how long she stayed like that, it could have been a thousand years. She focused on a swaying tree in the distance, the sound of the waterfall behind her and the rub of his hand against her back until finally she blinked as if waking from a dream.

"This is real, isn't it?" she asked in the voice of a child and he nodded soberly at her.

"You're safe here Wendy, I won't let anything happen to you. If you want John and Michael could stay too," he offered gently but Wendy jerked back, looking at him with something close to madness.

"Don't you dare! They must never stay here! Promise me!" she demanded, gripping him fiercely and he nodded.

"I promise, whatever you wish," he answered sincerely and Wendy calmed.

There was something like a whistle in her head, something faint but persistent that wanted to blare and stab through her but she clamped down on it because if she didn't she would crack. She stared intensely at Peter, as if drinking him in and she fisted his shirt, pulling him close as she became fearful.

"You won't go, will you?"

He shook his head, cupping her face again. "I will never, ever leave you. This is your home now. It's you and me, like it was always meant to be," he said and kissed her forehead. Wendy closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat filling her ears and soon it was the only thing that seemed real.

* * *

The fire crackled and roared, heat beating at her face and she was lost in the flames. She leaned limply against Peter as he sat beside her, now back in the camp. She was not sure how long they remained by the waterfall but it was long enough so that she could stand and walk unaided, though he kept a hand at her back. She was still in a hazy half denial but a terrible pain was struggling to rise, to rage through her like a river and she knew that it was right, that it was natural but she fought against it. She kept it submerged, her mind numb and her movements slow, as if any quick thought or action would trigger it. But like someone sticking their hand in a bucket of water it only made the grief and anger threaten to spill over the sides with every attempt to keep it at bay. So she sat quietly, absorbed by the fire as the remaining Lost Boys went to bed. Peter and Felix talked quietly as Peter whittled himself a new set of panpipes.

"We could go back?" Felix suggested. After the vicious fight only a few of the Lost Boys had made it back to Neverland, the rest were still in London. Or dead.

Peter shook his head, eyeing his handy work carefully. "Leave them. Every now and then it's good to thin out the ranks and bring in new blood."

"Recruitment?" Felix said, shifting on his feet.

"Yes but not yet," Peter said and blew away the curls of wood from the now finished pipes. He gave one experimental blow and a soft, sweet note issued. Wendy stirred and leaned off him, staring at the pipes strangely.

"...May I?" she asked, hand out and after a moment's hesitation Peter handed them over. Maybe he was worried that she would cast them into the fire but she only ran her fingers over the small pipes, lost in thought.

"The wood is enchanted," he explained softly but she did not hear him, she did not care. When she lifted the pipes to her lips Peter straightened. "You know what they will do. Be sure," he said but Wendy had already started playing.

Eyes closed she puckered her lips and blew gently along the top, from one end of the instrument to the other and a beautiful melody sounded. It was sad, sadder then anything Peter had played. Wendy got to her feet and played a lullaby that she only had the faintest recollection of. It was something her mother must have hummed over her as a baby, something made up but filled with aching love and tenderness. Wendy swayed, the music making her dance slowly, eyes still closed and slowly the awful deep weight that had been steadily rising started to abate. Soon the sharp pain and guilt that cut through her daze withdrew until even the confusion and denial were little more substantial than smoke.

As the music faded the death of her parents away from her mind, along with her concern and grief Wendy danced quicker, her movements lighter and soon she was utterly devoid of grief but instead filled with a new startling sense of liberation and carelessness. She opened her eyes and saw Peter through the flames watching her hungrily. Spinning and twisting, the ragged tatters of her dress swaying around her shins Wendy stopped before him, panting and eyes burning fiercely and she held out her hand. The sadness that once plagued her was now like a faint dream, not completely gone but easily forgotten.

"Dance with me," she invited him and he cocked an eyebrow.

"What are we celebrating?"

"Us," she said and he smiled like he had just been handed the greatest victory. He took her hand and then bowed to her seriously and she curtsied, oblivious to the people watching in the shadows. What they thought did not matter, nothing mattered any more.

_My brothers..._the thought made her stiffen a little when he drew her into his arms but the worry and doubt was swept away like dust as he took the pipes from her and threw them onto a chair. They had worked their magic and as they turned in slow circles around the fire Wendy threw her head back, hair trailing behind her and for that time she was content to let make-believe become her reality for as long as she needed it to.

* * *

_**a.n:** _

_Everyone okay? Eek..._

_For those asking I'm not going to end this story. There's an epilogue after this but I'm planning on doing a sequel. Stay tuned...  
_


	18. 100 Years Later

_note: nc-17 scene ahead._

* * *

For over a century she lived and waited. In that time, if you had the option to see it all over a few seconds, you would see a girl slowly transform into something else. She was not an adult, she was not a child but something in between and even then she could surprise you. To look at her you would be mistaken for thinking her strangely hollow, her gaze unfocused as if earthly matters did not concern her and you would be half right. She had found to survive she had to retreat into her mind, construct her own reality in a place where anything was possible, if Peter allowed it.

It was that freedom that caused him equal parts amusement and irritation. She was to become as rooted into the island as he was, as he shared the secrets of the place with her or she discovered them despite his best efforts. She was a storyteller, weaving fantasy and dreams into solid constructs and after awhile she surpassed even him. He did not have the desire to draw up elaborate illusions because Neverland as an island was already _his_ construct and he was perfectly happy with it. But it was not _hers_. Most of the people that ventured to the island were not even aware that half of the land was barred to them and Peter was to find one dreadful day that she had believed enough to exclude even him after a terrible fight. He had waited, too stubborn to apologise and be the first to relent but as so much time passed he could take it no more and ripped into her fantasy world and was suitably amazed and then appalled.

Through the detached, dreamy air that she emitted was a sharp, cunning mind that did not have time for sentimentality but it was not always so. Though she loved deeply it was selective and reserved. How could it not be with such a jealous lover? Peter had taken her love, her adulthood, her family and her virginity but her sense of moral obligation had been the hardest thing to disregard and even now it was not gone completely. After the first decade she had cast off any sense of frigidity or misplaced respectability that belonged to another people, another world. What was proper and expected was dire and out of place on the island and so she had let the last vestiges of the age she was born in slip through her fingers and vanish. It was exceedingly freeing.

Sometimes she would sit by his side when boys joined the island, like some visiting dignitary and Peter allowed her to pass judgement. Those who were not the right fit were taken back home while those willing and acceptable were allowed to stay. It was one of her demands: if he was to recruit it must be boys that actually wanted to stay and be of sound mind too. They did not want a repeat of Slightly but who can say what way the island will twist a mind? She had hand picked Rufio, approving of his fire and charisma but in hindsight she wished that she had never laid eyes on him. He was too much like Peter and that had been his downfall.

Over those long years she had seen many things, visited other worlds, loved and lost but it was all leading to one outcome and as that day approached Wendy's attempts at pretending grew less and less substantial until she could not deny that a cold hard reality was about to lower over their heads and she was scared.

* * *

It was the day. The two idiots, as he affectionately called them, were about to succeed and the long century of waiting was about to come to an end. The Heart of the Truest Believer was about to be delivered to them but it did not produce a sense of relief or joy, though Peter could fool his followers. He was apprehensive, wound tight with hope and fear but there was something else. It could mean the end of them and like any possessive creature he was not ready to give her up.

He stood in the door way, staring at her intensely from under his brows. A wolf at the door. He did not say anything and neither did she. They both knew that this may be the only time that they could be true to themselves because when the boy came and the others on the ship arrived storytelling time would begin and they both had their parts to play.

She wanted to be slow, to be gentle and savour what could be the last intimate time they had together but he was too full of nervous energy and need and she was always so easily caught up in his passions. He backed her against a wall while she tugged at his hair, kissing each other with a desperate urgency. He lowered his hands and tugged on her dress, gliding his palms over her thighs before hooking his fingers into the hem of her stockings and pulling them down. Dropping to his knees, her hands in his hair they stared at each other but when they did the truth of what was about to happen was reflected back at each other. Haunted by reality she started to speak, say his name but he rose quickly and pressed his mouth against hers and silenced her. Foreheads touching, she nodded once, eyes deeply trained on his and wrapped her arms around his neck as he picked her up and laid her down.

She brushed her fingertips along his face, down his nose and over his mouth as if she would not be given the opportunity to do so again. He kissed her fingers softly before he grabbed her hands and pushed them down by her head. She felt a thrill go through her as he did because she was the one usually on top. Forcing her legs apart he slipped the buttons on her dress open and then slide his hands over her stomach and around her waist, lifting her so her back arched. She was moaning now, a low constant noise that issued from the back of her throat that turned into a gasp when he kissed her chest and moved between her thighs and she drew her knees up. Wendy's moan was muffled by his mouth as he pushed into her and stopped, eyes pinned to hers and she gave a look of commencement. They had spent so long together that more often then not words were not needed. She gripped the bed covers below her as he rocked against her, movements quickly becoming rough and frenzied and she was vividly reminded of the time she had lost her virginity to him. It had even been in the same bed though the circumstances had been wildly different.

As when he dreams this was one of the only times that Peter was visible without a mask or subterfuge in place, his emotions true and in that moment it was clear he was nervous. He fed that sense of uncertainty and helplessness into his kisses and touch, leaving her mouth red and her skin bruised but he was left no less damaged. His back was dotted with dashes and red crescents as she dug her nails into his skin and tightened her arms and legs around him, as if she could hook him there with her and never let him go. But soon he was shaking, meeting his end and she held him gently until she started to buck under him, chasing her own pleasure and when she did she cried out his name as he whispered into her ear. He laid limply against her, panting into her hair but leaned up when he felt her chest heaving and jerking under him. She was crying, tears running down her cheeks and he brushed them away with his fingers.

"Don't," he begged.

"I can't help it," she gulped and tried to smile. She wanted to be brave, to be positive and think that everything would go according to his plan but even after a century the seers words still haunted her.

_Cursed worse then ever..._

She closed her eyes, trying to banish their words and drew him closer to her. If only she could just keep him here with her, like she had so desired once. He lifted his head off her chest and looked at her knowingly.

"No cold feet now, it's happening old girl."

_Old girl._ Of course she liked to call him young man but only in private. She brushed his matted hair back and then touched his chest lightly. It had been her idea, the last ditch attempt, a last resort in case the plan failed and as such he was counting on her.

"I'll play the part," she said softly, "but if my brothers are hurt or their lives threatened in any way I will stop." That was her one condition and he nodded, leaning off her. The loss of contact made her instinctively reach out as he clothed himself with a thought and he smiled as she pulled him back into her arms.

He could not love like others, like she could but that did not mean he was heartless. It was his one and only form of salvation but now he had to give it away and it caused her a psychical pain. But better to be heartless then cursed, better to be a true monster then be the most wretched and tormented being alive.

"Are you ready?" she asked, changing her attire with a fleeting glimpse. The people coming would expect Wendy Darling, a girl who had flown away to Neverland in her night gown and slippers, not someone with poisoned berries in her hair and a knife strapped to her leg.

"Yes. If I say," he hesitated, eyes tormented "...I can't be this to you," he said softly, moving a hand between them and she nodded. He could be unbelievably cruel, she had seen it and been on the receiving end but this would be different.

"I know, but only for awhile," she said and waited until his heart throbbed hard in her hand. It was dark and pitiful but over time it had lightened, just a little but it gave her hope. "I'll keep it safe," she whispered as his gaze became cool and calculating. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, wanting one last embrace before he was gone. She kept her eyes closed, remained still when he pulled away and tried to savour the illusion that he was still beside her. But he had gone without a goodbye and now the game was about to begin. Wendy removed the thimble necklace she always wore and kept it and his heart in a safe place. He was not the only one that would have to weave lies and spin tricks but she was nothing if not a master storyteller.

She could play the part as well as she told it.

_~fin~_

* * *

**_a.n:_**

_It's my headcanon that Wendy's in on everything and I'm probably going to be jossed, so good thing it's AU ;)_

_Thank you all so much for your support and correspondence, it's been amazing! The sequel, __**The Riddle of his Being**__, will be available soon and cover Wendy's 100 year stay in Neverland, so please keep an eye out for it. Thank you!_


End file.
